It is cold, foggy and dark. Everything around me seems dead: the brown grass, the bare and thin trees, my tired classmates. I look at wildlife and think of greener, more beautiful places. I imagine I'm hiking in North Carolina or Austria, where nature doesn't need sprinklers to stay green. Why am I awake now? How can you find beauty on this hike? How can I write an essay about this? Despite my negative thoughts, I force myself to focus on the hike. Birds soar through the clear air, sing their morning melodies and perch on trees and telephone wires. I hear the cows in the pastures and feel nice, cool breezes. The road turns and the hilly landscape suddenly appears more beautiful as we cross the quarry. The fresh scent of a group of eucalyptus trees washes over me and reminds me of the many times I have enjoyed Catalina Island. As I exhale, fond childhood memories make me increasingly excited about my trip and I imagine climbing a large live oak tree nearby. A small white butterfly flies next to me and a group of well-camouflaged deer...