This post was written by Emma Oschrin, 2014 Project Specialist.
When I began working for the Mono Lake Committee in June 2013, I was only intending to stay for the summer season. As a recent college graduate with no other concrete plans, I had hoped that I could turn my internship into a longer-term gig—but I had no idea if that would be possible.
Then, in August, I was offered the position of Project Specialist and I made plans to stay on for the winter. The winter in Lee Vining held many new and different experiences from summer life. The town quiets down significantly but the Committee is still buzzing with long-term planning, fundraising, and hundreds of mail orders for the holiday season. Then slowly, as the days began growing longer again and the staff began gearing up for the upcoming flurry of activity, all I could think about was summer.
In Lee Vining, summer means hordes of visitors through town, flocks of birds migrating to Mono Lake, new seasonal staff at the Mono Lake Committee, and a surprisingly bustling little town coming back to life. For me, this second summer was a chance to see more of the area, start more projects at the Committee, and establish friendships with the incoming seasonal staff. However, this year, I knew exactly what the end of summer would bring. I would be heading off to begin a Biology graduate program in Indiana.
Although I was eagerly awaiting the start of summer, I noticed that I was approaching this new season with a strange nostalgia. Despite the fact that the summer hadn’t even begun, I was already seeing the weeks fly by; I was already anticipating the end. I was missing a place and a time in my life that I hadn’t even left yet. I had a similar feeling when I left college. It’s difficult trying to live in the moment and enjoy the time you have left all the while knowing that it will be over soon. It clouds the experiences in a sort of longing; a longing for something that you have at present but you know is soon coming to a close.
When this summer began, I already had almost every one of my weekends booked up. I was trying to squeeze in as many visits and activities as possible before I would have to stop calling the Mono Basin my home. Although this was my way of taking advantage of being here while I still could, it definitely made the time zoom past faster than ever before. While the Lee Vining winter can seem to drag on and on, the summers do quite the opposite.
I’ve managed to fit in many unforgettable experiences this summer. I had the chance to grow close with another crew of seasonal staff. We went swimming in Mono Lake under the incredible light of the super moon. We hiked around Yosemite together, catching great views of Half Dome and Yosemite Valley. We looked up at the stars on cloudless nights and listened to bears grumbling past our windows.
In my short time at the Mono Lake Committee, I’ve had to say too many goodbyes. Since I stayed on last winter, I saw all of my friends leave one by one as their seasonal jobs ended. I also saw two wonderful permanent staff members leave in the year that I’ve been here. However, this summer, since I’m ending my job relatively early in the season to begin graduate school, I’ll be the one doing the leaving. I’ll be leaving my co-workers (who I’m lucky enough to also call my friends), my quaint cabin home, the Sierra Nevada, and the briny waters of Mono Lake.
Personally, it can be very hard to leave a place knowing that it will continue on without me. Knowing that the people and places I have come to love will keep doing the same things but I won’t be there to see it and help and participate. Yet at the same time, I’m so glad that everything will carry on after I leave. I can begin my new adventure in Indiana knowing full well that the Mono Lake Committee will still be here, working and fighting to protect Mono Lake. And, thanks in large part to the Committee, Mono Lake will still be here for all the years to come. I know that no matter how far I go, I will always have a place I can come back to; a home to return to here in the Mono Basin.
Yes, there comes that time when the “world” calls for us to leave, but like our footprints, a little of us is left behind in the memories of those we’ve met and shared time. Pleasure meeting you in Terri’s VOTP, and wish you the best.