Two days prior to starting my junior year. I peered into the viewfinder of my Polaroid as my best friend, Kelsey, fixed her hair and posed. I pressed my finger against the button and the loud click broke through the soft music playing in the background behind us. Plucking the film from the camera, I gave the photo a quick shake before gingerly placing the developing film on the eggshell-colored cloth beneath us. Veering my gaze towards the vibrant grass, I plunged my fingers into the foliage, feeling its prickly arms tug on my fingertips.

Glancing over at Kelsey, I watched her pick at the peach mochi she had brought in the picnic basket as I began to reflect on the eventful summer that had come and gone. Kentucky. Orlando and Miami. Disney World. Universal Studios. New York. Kinky Boots. Link Crew. The Renaissance Festival. Turning sixteen. Getting my braces taken off. Memories filled with laughter, awe, and the classic teenage desire for summer to stretch on for eternity. Memories I wanted to live in forever, the feeling of being completely happy. I mean bubbly giggles-aching cheeks-dance for no reason kind of happy. 

I began to mourn the summertime elation, knowing the euphoria would soon come to a close by the hands of daily school stresses and the chaos of junior year. Floating back to reality, I watched Kelsey humming to “Mambo No. 5,” completely immersed in the song. Seeing her enter a hub of joy made me realize—happiness does not just come from grandiose adventures—but from the simple wonders we find in day-to-day life.