The ‘Mountain, Pond, Marsh and Star,’ IMS’ Eco Art and Writing contest spans the month of April to celebrate our community’s interdisciplinary connection to the natural world for Earth Month.

Members of the IMS Community, including students, faculty, staff, and parents, were invited to submit poetry, prose, art, and music to this year’s contest. Submissions related to nature, ecology, climate, and globalism to highlight the humanity that connects us emotionally to our community and the earth.

A panel of local artists, writers, and creative professionals voted to elevate a winner in each of the contest’s categories. Winners were awarded the opportunity to donate to an environmental organization of their choice. 

Congratulations to the following pieces that were selected as winners of this year’s contest.

LOWER CAMPUS ART WINNER

Geneva Panev, 4th Grade

LOWER CAMPUS WRITING WINNERS

EVERYTHING AND NOTHING
Pina Paninski, 4th Grade

EVERYTHING, IS EVERYTHING
THE PONDS \ THE MOUNTAINS GRASS EVEN YOU IS EVERYTHING 
EVERYTHING CAN NOT BE MISTAKEN BECAUSE IT IS EVERYTHING 
NOTHING IS NOT EVERYTHING
BUT NOTHING IS STILL SOMETHING OR IT WOULD NOT EXIST 
YOU ARE NOT NOTHING YOU ARE
SOMETHING YOU ARE EVERYTHING 
NOTHING IS ACTUALLY NOT A THING
BECAUSE EVERYTHING IS SOMETHING
EVEN NOTHING BECAUSE IT IS HERE 
AND SOMETIMES IT FEELS LIKE NOTHING IS REAL 
BUT IT IS NOT BECAUSE NOTHING IS STILL SOMETHING.

Taking supplies from the Mainland
Charlie Smith, 4th Grade

Running through the tundra 
with my horse bucking up and down 
trying its hardest 
not to fall through, 
but it’s useless
as the snow is like a mouth trying 
to swallow the horse up.
As we get closer to the village
it is a mouth trying to eat a whipped cream
mountain that’s too big.
As we make it to the village 
it is like the mouth ended 
and we are in a warm blanket.

And what would be snow beyond 
is rain in the village.
All the people are in their houses 
and when morning arrives 
the snow is not as deep 
so I walk to the stables 
and take him out
and ride to the next village
and give them supplies coming from the mainland.

5TH-6TH GRADE ART WINNER

Beau Ackley, 6th Grade

5TH-6TH GRADE WRITING WINNER

Awake and Lull
Georgia Winmill, 6th Grade

Vibrance of colors meeting at the horizon.
A bright glow of warm and light, peaks over the mountains.
Golden Glory.
Awakening to the day.

A rainbow sheet,
Following the large orange star descending down.
A dark blue sheet,
Following the large white orb ascending up.
Many small twinkling lights in a dark blue and black sky.
Lulling into the night.

7TH-9TH GRADE ART WINNER

Sophie Yoon, 8th Grade

7TH-9TH GRADE WRITING WINNER

Lewis and Clark
Alex van Dyke, 9th Grade

There is no such thing as unappreciative
Wanting something more than the ‘what we have now’
Is native
Clark and Lewis didn’t escape into the unknown
For the chest of gold,
No matter what they told their wives

And it wasn’t to escape their wives
No matter what they told their friends.

They delved deep into the pool of sky and grass and deadly little bugs
Because they felt that little beast in their hairy chests
Who howls and pouts and whines for the wild,
Like a wild little boy pouts for his lollipop.

The whiny little beast bickers inside all of us
Some of us just tell him that the big gray buildings
Are very tall trees
To make him shut up. 

ADULT ART WINNER

Amber Zhang

ADULT WRITING WINNER

Saturated Morning 
Alex Weyerhaeuser

The mist settles in over the pond 
and the rolling grasses, 
saturating the atmosphere,
weighing down on every
thing.

This thickness
blurs the boundary between pond 
and air, 
each breathing into the 
other:
the only noticeable movement
is this subtle
pulsing
energy shift. 

On days like these, 
out here or in the city, 
I wonder 
what everyone is doing.
It’s a Tuesday morning, 
don’t you still have to go to work?
To school?
To the airport?
Don’t the beetles continue 
to gnaw and chatter?
To recycle life through a fallen log?
Is it too wet and heavy 
for the grasshoppers to rub their legs together 
and sing?
Even the wind tried a gust or two, 
but the voluptuous grass seedpods stood their ground
and the wind chimes defied their name,
so it retreated,
defeated,
to the high peaks, 
the plains, 
the open seas
where it doesn’t have to work 
so hard.

 I imagine every one woke up,
felt the cool, quiet weight 
as they molassesed their morning arms
through the fog—
the entire world holding a saturated inhale—
and said,
“not today.”
And instead of going to work 
or turning to their once-consequential to-do lists,
or their Sisyphean task of recycling 
life,
they pause the carbon cycle for one morning 
and just
be.

Only the sleek loon slices through,
calls out into the stillness:
clear and forlorn,
touching the whole 
world.

View the Complete Gallery of Submissions