On a late afternoon, a young hiker trudges along an open expanse of foreign land. He knows he is tired, but there is still a long but promising journey ahead.
The land is as natural as water from glaciers — it has not been tampered with by society – yet. A few paths emerge from the lush green forests from the east, the imposing mountains north, the vast arid deserts west, and the swampy fields south. They converge at one point: An intersection in the middle of everything.
There are no signs to guide the wandering traveler; the traveler is meant to be on his own.
But there are different paths.
Alas, the intersection — surely there must be more to it. Is it a mere point in space, like a point on a timeline?
No one knows where exactly the paths lead beyond each respective horizon. The traveler mustn’t dally, however. Time is not gifted in troves of treasure chests. A decision must be made before dark.
The traveler stops and listens. A shrill of high pitch melodies rises from the south, filling the traveler’s ears with excitement and wonder. The hissing of a rattlesnake as it winds through the ocean of sand redirects the traveler’s attention a full 180 degrees. The faint roaring of a waterfall in the east reminds the traveler’s dry lips of the need for water. These are merely distractions; The traveler is meant to be on his own.
A lift of the head fills the innocent eyes with a view of the greater land: The sky. Is that another option to go to? No, the sky is the universe than contains our very existence. It’s may be limitless, but it’s a container.
The sun begins to set. The vast expanse of sand in the west becomes illuminated by a dying, glowing ember. The light slowly recedes in the desert terrain, and darkness fills the empty spaces of the container. Like the sands of time in an hourglass, the particles of light filter away with each passing second.
– Matt Chow, The Haverford School, Class of 2016