I was a kid with constantly scraped knees and wild, messy hair. Growing up, my parents let me and my brothers play outside in the woods behind our house. In my imagination, those thickets transformed into magical realms and we became kings and queens. The creek we splashed in became a dangerous river crossing as the trees loomed overhead. I am so thankful to have been raised so close to nature. Now, as a young adult, I see the trees as they are and I love them just the same. There is something healing about walking in the woods. Even as my responsibilities grow and life becomes stressful, nature remains the same. Those same trees still stand behind my house. The creek still runs into a river. I appreciate these things even more now that I have moved to a city. Sometimes it is harder to see, but even in the middle of the city, nature prevails. The cracks in the sidewalks are home to stubborn roots, reaching towards the sunlight through layers of pavement. Birds make their nests on the rafters of concrete buildings. I am inspired by the way nature adapts and continues, always, to grow. I love nature as much as I did as a wild elementary schooler. I love going on camping trips and hikes. However, I have learned to appreciate nature even in places I don't expect it. You don't have to go any great distance to find nature. It is the small vegetable patch growing in front of my house. It is the plant hanging in my window, the sound of birds chirping in the morning. It is the woods behind my old house and my new home in the city. It is everywhere, always. It is the most beautiful thing in the world.

The first dog I ever met was my grandmother's boxer, Cyrus. He was a massive dog, weighing in at over 70 pounds, yet he was the gentlest creature I have ever known. My grandmother has a photo album full of pictures of myself as a baby meeting Cyrus for the first time. The story goes that I crawled up to him and promptly stuck my chubby baby fingers in his nostrils. My grandmother recalled being horrified, worried about his reaction to this invasion of privacy, but she laughed when he simply sat there, allowing my curious exploration of this unknown creature. The few memories I have of Cyrus mostly include cuddling with him, his large body wrapped entirely around my own five-year old self. His head fit neatly in my small lap, his tail curling around my waist. Cyrus showed me a new kind of love. A dogs' love is simple and unconditional. Despite the years of poking tiny fingers in his face and tugging on his tail, he showed me that pure love in every wag of his tail and lick on the cheek. I grew up with Cyrus. He was there for me when I was still crawling on all fours. He was surprised when I took my first steps. He listened to countless stories when I learned how to read and was the star of all my crayon drawings. The years went by and I watched as Cyrus grew up, too. I had to watch as we moved his bed when he could no longer walk up all the stairs. He was my first friend. He taught me a special kind of love, and then left a painful kind of loss. I regret that he never got to meet my dog, Tybee. I imagine he would have said "this is my kid, I'll show you how to take care of her". I have always loved animals as long as I can remember, and I know Cyrus is the reason for that. Now that I am eighteen, I volunteer at my local animal shelter. I meet so many animals in need and in their eyes I see the same patience and love my first dog showed me. Animals don't judge. They don't care what you look like or what you're going through. All they need is someone to love and someone to show them love. I don't think I would be who I am today if I hadn't felt that unconditional love. Animals inspire me every day. When I've had a hard day, or am feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders, they show me that love, at least, is uncomplicated. I need them as much as they need me. No matter what is happening I can always rely on the knowledge that when I come home, my dogs will be happy to see me.

My sweet girl, Cammie, likes to sleep curled up against me. Given the option of sleeping in her comfortable plush dog bed or squeezing into my twin bed right up against the wall, she will always choose the latter. It is impossible for me to think that this cuddly dog was once abused and abandoned in a burnt-down trailer park, fending for herself and her nine puppies. When Cammie was rescued, she was considered violent. She was found extremely malnourished, with her ribs jutting out from the sides of her frame. She had to fight to feed herself and her babies, to survive. She was returned to the shelter twice by adopters, never given the chance to show her true personality. With just a little love, Cammie became the most loving, sweet companion. She no longer has to worry about finding her next meal. Her wonderful foster family helped her feel safe until we found her and fell in love. It pains me to think of what might have happened if nobody had believed in Cammie. The sad reality is that shelters are not great environments for dogs. They are stressful, loud, and crowded. At the shelters I visited while looking to adopt, and now frequent as a volunteer, the dogs unfortunately spend most of their time in three foot kennels, only getting to play once a week. The shelters are overwhelmed by the number of animals in need. I picture Cammie in those kennels. Would I have seen the same dog that licks my face to wake me up in that small cell? Or would I walk past, looking for a calmer dog in her place? Dogs in stressful situations tend to bark and jump out of fear, which unfortunately makes them less likely to get adopted quickly. I can't imagine the fear these animals experience everyday. I wish I could take all of them home with me and show them the love they deserve. However, sometimes the best I can do is to show up. Hosing down dog poop is not glamorous, but it is a huge help to the overwhelmed shelter employees. I love taking dogs out for the day and showing them the outside world. Animal advocacy has become a regular part of my life and I wouldn't change it for the world. I am so thankful to have found my sweet girl. She came into my life and showed me a new kind of love, unconditional and pure. There are millions of Cammies in the world that still need help. She showed me the need and trusted me to take care of her. I want to do that for every dog, cat, and animal in need. I am just one person, but I will always be there to speak for them.

Nothing can compare to the joy of discovering a new book. The mere turn of a page can transport you to new worlds and fill your mind with magic. I have read hundreds of books in the past few years alone. I love setting reading challenges for myself and watching the progress bar slowly climb. However, no matter how many books I add to my library, none will ever come as close to my heart as the Harry Potter series. I first encountered the magic of these books as a five year old, listening to my dad as he tried on funny voices to act out each character's lines. I am now eighteen years old and a second year college student, but the lessons I learned those many years ago from the boy with a lightning-shaped scar stuck with me, even now. Harry Potter taught me to be brave. Going to a college 2,000 miles away from home was daunting. I didn't know anyone, not even the roommates I would be spending the rest of my freshman year with. My family felt millions of miles away. I imagine Harry, struggling to adjust to the magical world he hadn't known existed until he was thrust into it, alone and afraid. We took those journeys together. Harry Potter taught me what true friendships look like. I remember my younger self looking up to Hermione Granger and discovering myself in her. She made me feel ok being unapologetically myself. The Harry Potter series has always been there for me to revisit, like an old friend. The well-worn pages are as familiar as my own home. Most importantly, the Harry Potter series showed me how to love reading and opened the door to countless worlds and wonders.

I was in the ninth grade when I first heard the term "climate crisis". That second word changed everything for me. My mind conjured vivid images of beloved animal species dying out as their once-lush ecosystems turned to ash. The climate situation was much worse than I ever could've imagined. I wondered why that was news to me. Did everyone know? If they did, why weren't they talking about it? With a new hunger for knowledge, I sought information wherever I could. I consumed documentaries like Josh Fox's "Gasland" and read books like Rachel Carson's "Silent Spring". I was horrified by concepts that had been entirely foreign to me, like microplastics and greenwashing. I took everything I learned to heart and made changes in my own life, starting by going vegetarian and reducing my consumption of single-use plastics. When I discovered glass is not accepted in my city's curbside recycling, I began looking for more creative ways to reduce waste. I stockpiled glass waste and gave many wine and beer bottles a second life. I cut, sanded, and filled them with wax, creating repurposed glass candles. I didn't stop there. I transformed single use plastic bags from the grocery store into reusable bags, weaving the thin plastics into sturdy tote bags and purses. I am always looking for new ways to turn trash into useful items. I am grateful to have had a childhood spent gallivanting in the woods and splashing in creeks. My love of nature blossomed at a very young age and started the fire in my heart that inspires me to reduce my impact on the environment today. I try to find creative ways to reduce my waste. However, I think my most important accomplishment has been simply sharing my love of nature with the next generation.