People always say that nothing is permanent; everything is temporary, transient, fleeting. And yet we always seem to take comfort in our habits and rhythms like we have no defense when we are thrown into a time of major change. I used to hate change vehemently. I liked my friends, my school, and my environment. I liked what was familiar. However, this is not conducive for a military family that packs up and leaves no trace every three years. I had made many cross-country moves before, but I had been too young to really understand what was happening and too young to make a lasting connection and love for my community. We made our final move in 2010 just before my dad retired. I had lived most of my life on the sunny beaches of California, longer than anywhere else. I liked running down the wooden pier and watching the fisherman reel in fish. I enjoyed my sad attempts at surfing in the cool waters of the Pacific. I finally had friends that I was going to miss. Our final goodbye to the great state of California came as we crossed out the final item on our bucket list of places we wanted to visit– the last national park we had yet to visit–Yosemite We were going to drive away of everything I was familiar with over the Sierra-Nevadas through the Tioga Mountain Pass.
We made our ascent up the mountain escaping the forest fires eating at the forest below. The switchbacks were making me dizzy. We stopped briefly to stretch our legs in a grassy meadow just abeam of the road. The air no longer smelled like smoke and I could finally breathe. I watched the Mule Deer run in the open, the birds and their singsong banter in the trees, and a bear crawling through the underbrush in the distance. They were always moving. They were nomads in the search of food or escaping the clutches of the flames now far below. Their lives were constantly changing, but they survived, and they kept moving. To my ten-year-old mind, this meant everything. This meant I would survive this move.
On that mountain, I looked back and knew I would bring with me the memories I had made, but now looked forward, at the unknown land of Virginia, with renewed enthusiasm. I learned to embrace change, which I can no longer live without.
Will's Blog 
So beautifully written! Though part of the assignment, your imagery really made me feel like I was in the meadow with all the creatures you describe. I also like the description of your old life back in California, and how you were able to tie that in so effortlessly with the memory, despite how different the settings are. I would definitely definitely encourage you to write more and publish it all for us to see!
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An excellent piece! Change teaches you not to take things for granted.
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I really liked how you connected the lives of the animals to your own life, and how you drew a life lesson from it. I can also connect with you when you say you like what’s familiar, such as friends and the environment. Overall, this piece was really good!
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Will, I love how your narrator (you, I suppose!) searches for answers from the natural world during this period of upheaval. It reminded me of the work of one of my favorite authors, Barbara Kingsolver, who often puts her characters into remarkable, powerful natural landscapes as they suffer or endure a metamorphosis.
I’m also glad I got to learn more about you and your nomadic childhood; it’s clear that this is a big part of your identity, for you write about it with a mix of nostalgia and authority.
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Whether you did this on purpose or not, the structure of the information of the story lends itself to prove your claim, that structure being an introduction concerning your past life in California and other places, which is part of who you are and worthy to be included in an introduction. Yet, you then go on to describe the various nomadic animals and how they live their lives, which happens to be in line with the way you live your life now, and the order of events reflect how you have changed as you grew up. All in all, very cool!
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