A few scattered stars, barely noticeable, emerge from the murky sky above a thick layer of fog. The dim beach is filling with shadows as my faithful cross country team begins the journey down the beach from the sand dunes of Pyramid Point to the campsite where we will hold our final team meeting. After the first few steps, I realize that since the beach is diminished by the high tide and the waves are much more powerful than anyone had anticipated, we are going to be drenched in water. As we continue the trek down the beach my feet are soon covered in cuts from the razor-sharp rocks, neatly disguised by the rough sand. I am still following behind my friend Jillian and ahead of Kelsey, but in the back of my mind I wonder how scattered the rest of my team has become or if they are following us at all. Yet my momentary concern is overpowered by frustration because of the awful rocks, like little knives piercing my feet. I concentrate so hard on avoiding them that when I look up, I find both Jillian and Kelsey have disappeared and I am left alone.
In that instant, the world exudes an entirely different aura. Nature suddenly appears menacing in a way unlike anything I had ever seen before. The water becomes even deeper making it impossible to walk steadily. The waves crashing to shore become massive, smothering my trembling body as they plunge forward. The sky becomes stormy and angry-looking, and I cringe as the daylight becomes dark as ink. In the complete darkness, the salt water is ice stinging my pale, freckled skin. The wind is electric causing my long, thick hair to whip wildly at my face. And if, at five foot ten, I’m struggling to stay standing, what is it like for the little freshmen who are barely over five feet tall? The current pulls at my feet and it occurs to me that I might be dragged under and since no one can see me, no one will know. I am completely alone. The only light I can see through the chaos is a single star, partly obscured by a cloud and incapable of radiating light with the extraordinary power that it is accustomed to having.
After what feels like hours, but is really only a few miserable minutes, I spot some other teammates, Nicole, our team captain, and Lily, a small freshmen, clutching a tree branch up ahead waiting for me to catch up. Waves of gratitude wash over me, as powerful as the ocean waves surrounding us. Everything becomes a little safer, a little brighter. Although the camp appears to be lost, at least I’m not by myself. Not only that but Jillian and the few other people who had gotten ahead are gradually able to join us and we begin battling the waves as a mighty group.
The beach drags on and when we pass what we had thought to be the campsite, an overall feeling of hopelessness falls over us and Lily begins sobbing. Tears stream softly down her face and between sobs she stammers that we will never find the campsite and that she can’t understand why we were separated from the rest of the team. I wrap my arms around her and although secretly thinking the same thing, I assure Lily that we are almost there, that we will be there any minute. Comforting Lily gives me a sense of comfort too because the only way to get through this is to promise each other that everything is okay.
As we encourage one another forward, Nicole unexpectedly spots the white chair that marks the campsite. Reaching the white chair is finding a ray of sunlight after years and years of bitter rain. We are beyond relieved that we are no longer lost but simultaneously anxious because we find the camp empty, proving that our team is still missing. We wait quietly near the white chair, Lily still shaking, a troubled vigil. Together, we gaze up at the sky which was overflowing with stars, clustered in glimmering groups, some forming brilliant constellations. The night is radiant with these millions of stars, each glowing independently, and from a distance they seem to become a single dazzling light amidst the darkness.
Before long, the silhouette of Morgan can be seen from a distance, crying just like Lily had been, because she had endured the storm all by herself. Nicole rushes over to console her and at the same time, the outline of more people can be seen guiding one another to the camp. Kelsey hugs her sister Hailey, sheltering her from the wind. Coach carries Lizzy, another petite freshmen, away from the waves. Isabel, the only person who doesn’t look terrified, offers her sweatshirt to her shivering best friend.
***
Hours later, after my team had regrouped, changed into warm dry clothes, and eaten all of our remaining snacks, we each lay side by side in the soft grass, admiring the beautiful stars.