One of my most poignant childhood memories is the sensory associations with the cold, clear waters of Lake Tahoe.

I was inspired by a memory of physical connection with water. My family used to go to Lake Tahoe every summer, and I was the oldest of a bunch of kids and cousins. My refuge from the chaos was to take a book, a towel, and a small bag of oreos, and row myself out in a little yellow inflatable raft to the last buoy, where I would tie off and read under the towel shade for as long as I could. It was in that magical little space that I could hear the water lapping on the side of the boat, feet the waves ripple under my body, hear the birds and boats and distant chatter on the beach. It was perfect peace to my ten-year-old self. When I got too hot I would dip into the frigid waters. It would take my breath away and I could see so far down into the ridiculously clear water. Over the years, this lake has been faced with many challenges that have impacted the lake clarity and health; one of them being my presence there each summer. This formative experience connected me to my environment and made me care about the health of that place and the planet.