Titan Times

The student news site of Tuscarora High School

The student news site of Tuscarora High School

Titan Times

The student news site of Tuscarora High School

Titan Times

Partnership for a Healthier America
School Stress
Addison Selby, Creative Writing Submission • June 7, 2024

I can’t even begin to describe how largely school has impacted my life. The place where my dreams are put to the test I’m forced to carry the heavy burden of stress Countless...

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The Pledge
June 7, 2024
When I Was a Kid
June 7, 2024


Lawn Love

The lines across human palms resemble the veins of a leaf. Vertebrae of the spine resemble the thorns of a branch. Human bodies have the same lines as sand dunes. Humans inhale the air trees produce and age along with them. Ants return to the same home and have families of their own. Newborns of all species share the same cry and love for their mothers.

The origin of humankind has many theories: theories of a higher power, theories of evolution, or theories of nebula and stardust. It is clear that regardless of origin, humans and nature are connected by the same strand. We know many things throughout their lives. I know beaches and the sand. I know air conditioning, forks, and towels. Trees only know the seasons and the soil they remain buried in. They look at the same sky, and that is all they know.

There is a pond near my home with bird feeders and tulips scattered in the soil. Geese rest peacefully on the surface and gently swim across the sunset reflected on the water. They must think they are swimming across the sky.

The Fur-Bearers

In the summer, when the sun set slowly and the crickets created a symphony of sound, each night I would find myself listening. Fireflies traveled a path woven between the trees, and I watched them as they flickered. Amongst the ferns and flowers, I felt genuine peace. I would walk slowly on the gravel trail and fill my lungs with air. Trees spend lifetimes creating an element I use and discard so easily. Hills formed centuries ago are a nuisance to me. I kill species that have lived for centuries simply because they frighten me. I watch vines overtake walls and claw at concrete, begging for itself back.

There are no vines near the pond, but I think the shrubs share the same aching as the winding leaves on the sides of highways. As I walked along the paths, I pitied the plants that could not stay tall for so long and congratulated those that have. I envied their silence and gentle swaying. I was in awe of their simplicity and beauty. I admired the daffodils sprouting from the ground surrounding me, some still a developing bud enclosed in a green sepal, some fully blossomed with their yellow trumpets emerging in the middle of their white petals. Pollen was strategically dusted across the surface and the stems did not tilt or lean. I viewed this scenery each night, and it grew more captivating as summer days passed. During silent afternoons, I admired the geese and watched as they cautiously inched toward bread crumbs scattered across the bank of the pond.

Last summer, I was mentally and physically drained, overwhelmed with the tasks of daily life. I savagely and grasped at any peace, turning it into desperation. The scenery itself did not soothe me, but it was the reminder that earth is gentle, abundant, and shared. I found comfort in knowing the trees fight just as hard to stand tall as humans do. They have never known air conditioning, forks, and towels. They stand just to stand, without the promise of anything. They sprout roots of faith, and their resilience allows them to grow leaves. I learned to be at peace without expectation of anything else, and abundance followed. As spring leisurely approaches and the sun creeps slower toward the horizon, I will walk those gentle green paths again.

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