I looked out the window at the passing mountains, the long lost feeling of excitement welling up inside me. I was going back to my home, the one place I belonged.
The mountains seemed give me a renewed feeling, one I only feel when I am here, breathing the Sierra's crisp and clean air, a feeling I only get when I am here making music. This camp is like my home, I go there because there are other people who share my passion for music. Though I am only here a week, I feel like it's a lifetime.
Sierra Mountain Music Camp is seemingly different from any other place I've been. It is my second year going, but I know I belong there. As I have bly nodded; the excitement was causing me to want to stay silent. I could hardly wait to get there, my other friend, Meg was to meet me when I got there. This week would be an intense week of playing the violin and singing. I smiled slightly as I turned to look out the window, wondering what would this new year would bring. Little did I know, its ending would spark the beginning of this story. A story that is living even as I write it.
