A Refuge for the World Weary

In our community today, a vast majority of the natural wonders of the world have been destroyed in order to make room for technological advancements in our society. Deforestation, animal extinction, and pollution of the very air we breath is changing our way of life into a more desolate place each day.

But what if you could escape from the chaos of everyday life; to sit and reflect upon the nature that decreasingly remains, but still exists. This is where the Hylebos Wetlands maintains the beauty of nature in our community; where anyone can enjoy the wildlife of this abundant refuge. As the last remaining bog in South King County, not only do the Hylebos Wetlands and surrounding creek provide a haven for literally over hundreds of woodland creatures and plants, but the wetlands also serve as a purifier for Hylebos Creek and the Redondo-Milton aquifier which continues to provide the water sources for the Federal Way, Milton, Fife, and Puyallup water supply.

Without the existence of the Hylebos Wetlands and creek, our community would see a decrease in the salmon population, as well as other plants and animals, and our water wouldn't be as clean because we wouldn't have the natural purifiers that Hylebos Wetlands provides.

Although the Wetlands can survive on their own, there are many problems that it still encounters. The invasion of non-native plants and the needed restoration of the salmon habitat leaves the Wetlands begging for the help of people who care about the outcome of the Wetlands.

Fortunately, there is a group called the Stream Team. This group of people is comprised of mostly Americorps volunteers as well as citizens from around the community. About two years ago, I was able to experience the volunteer opportunities of restoring the Hylebos Wetlands. Not only do the Stream Team and its volunteers restore the salmon habitat by replanting native plants along the creek, and conducting fish spawning surveys during popular spawning seasons; but they also provide maintence of newly planted plants, continually test the quality of the water, as well as provide public outreach programs for those who are interested in learning about the Wetlands as well as volunteering in maintaining it's existence.

As long as members of our community continue to express interest and effort in maintaining Hylebos Wetlands, there will continue to be a beautiful nature reserve for all who wish to enjoy it.

Europe or Bust!

Narrative statement: This narrative is completely true except for the names of the characters in the story, which have been changed for their sake.

It was sometime in the middle of the afternoon, the sun streamed through the glass pained windows, shedding streaks of dappled sunlight throughout the bustling airport. We had been planning this trip for three years; three tedious years of car washes, garage sales, and everlasting cookie sales. Although I had been waiting for this trip for what seems a lifetime, it still hadn't hit me that I was going to Europe; with seven of my closest friends nonetheless.
This trip that I had spent such an extensive part of my life planning was a Girl Scout trip. Not just any let's-go-camping-five-miles-from-home, but a real adventure. When I look back on it now I still sometimes wonder if it was all just a dream. But the endless amounts of photos, ticket stubs, and recurring conversations with my friends make it all real.

The first thing I remember was gathering around in a corner of Sea-Tac airport, waiting around for the parents and the rest of the girls to arrive. I was standing there with my Burgundy Eagle Creek backpack, completely ladened to the exploding point with an eclectic collection of clothes and various other traveling amenities. I was quite proud of myself for having the ability to pack eighteen days of living into a single backpack.

After about half an hour of waiting around for everyone to show up, and enduring my mom's nonstop picture taking of "my first trip out of the country", we all issued tearful goodbyes (okay not really, but I'm sure our moms were somewhat sad to see us go), then all eleven of us, including three adult chaperones, headed towards our gate; first stop San Francisco.
As we headed towards our seats on the plane, I discovered that much to my luck I was privileged to have the honor of sitting next to Melissa (that's not actually her real name, but I will continue to use an alias for each person included in this story in order keep peace within the system), a robust girl with shoulder length ash-blonde hair, squinty blue eyes, and the mental capacity of an eight-year-old. The first two-and-a-half hours to San Francisco weren't completely unbearable, but when we boarded the twelve hour flight to Heathrow Airport in London, I knew I would be up to a challenge in testing my patience.

Luckily I had an aisle seat, but Melissa literally got up twenty times to go to the bathroom. After about the twelfth time of being interrupted in my viewing of Beauty Shop, I refused to get up, so she replied, "Fine Brianne", and then proceeded to begin this incessant crying, which is really just whining with an extra hint of annoying flavor because a fifteen-year-old is doing it.

Unfortunately I could not withstand her utterly ridiculous mannerisms, so I grudgingly obliged as I mumbled to myself about completely random nonsense after getting out of my seat for the umpteenth time.

After watching the sun rise and set on the plane, we finally made it to London. I could not have been happier to leave a plane. Heathrow Airport is certainly not the most magnificent airport ever made, it is actually rather dingy. But the gaggles of European men made up for it in no time. Literally, every thirty seconds our group would pass yet another delectable European. But anyways, out group didn't actually stay in London for the beginning of the trip.
After getting our passports stamped by a disgruntled Englishman, we proceeded to catch a bus, where I first discovered that England presents "Loo of the Year" awards, for immaculately tidy public restrooms. The restroom that we happened upon on our way to Bath didn't seem to possess anything extraordinary, except that the stall locks were almost impssible to use, although this bathroom did contain a sort of vending machine that dispensed a sort of tooth paste that you insert in your mouth and crunch on to cleaan your teeth.

When we first arrived in Bath, a leisurely town filled with cathedrals and shops of miscellaneous objects, everyone was highly irritable. Eighteen hours of traveling in smoldering ninety-degree heat with your backpack permanently attached to your body with sweat doesn't exactly make you a joy to be around. On top of that, Sasha, a hysterical yet domineering member of our troop kept becoming more and more frustrated while attempting to find our hostel, which was located at the Bath YMCA. Finally, after maybe an hour of aimless wandering, one of my friends, Sal, pointed out a miniscule sign about a foot wide in length, that read, "This Way To The Bath YMCA."

This was only the beginning of our adventure. What began in the quaint town of Bath led to an all day tour with "Pol" (Paul), the tour guide of Mad Max Tours, through the landmarks of Lacock Abbey (where I was reprimanded for laying in a coffin), Avebury, Stonehenge, and finally Salisbury, a town which has delicious Thai food and the same town in which Sasha and I created a Spanish opera while exploring the streets of Salisbury. Although most of it was peppered with the word "Faffanapoli" (which is actually Italian), the opera came out beautifully.

After our one night stay in Salisbury, we hopped aboard a bus to London. One wonderful event that happened when we first arrived in London was that the city was having a minute of silence, in honor of the victims that died in London bombings only a week earlier. It was such an incredible sight to see an entire city full of millions of people to literally stop everything that they were doing and stay completely silent; it was amazing to see such a substantial community all participate together.

Soon after the minute of silence, everyone went back to their daily lives. Our troop proceeded to hop a subway to our home-away-from-home. We stayed about four nights in Pax Lodge, a Girl Scout house in London, where many wonderful and bizarre events occurred that I wish I could describe, but would take entirely too long to recall.

Alas, we took the chunnel to Paris and Versailles, which ended too quickly. Yet again we boarded another train that took us to a variety of cities in Switzerland, our final country. We began in Bern, the capital, and continued through Adelboden, Frutigen, Kandersteg, and our ending destination Zurich.

Although it was sad to finally bring an end to this trip of a lifetime we were all on our last nerve of patience with each other. The reason in which I chose to describe my first adventures in Europe are because I learned a great deal about my fellow Girl Scouts and myself, and shared memories that I will not soon forget. This trip was certainly one that impacted my troop as a community, for better and for worse.