🦆🦆🦆🏳️🏳️🏳️ 🦖🦖🦖 by Ellie F. '28
SIMMONS!!! RETREAT!!!
153 minutes before the deadline to sign up for the Simmons Retreat, I got an email. We noticed you filled out the interest form, it said, but that you haven’t filled out the binding form. I had already accepted that I couldn’t go—I had promised to go to a Puzzle Club event on Monday, when I expected the retreat would still be going on. But a short email exchange later, I realized we actually would be back in time.
I’ll fill out the form, then, I responded. tysm!!
The Simmons Retreat was taking place over our student holiday, from Saturday, October 12th to Monday, October 14th at our Heads of House’s cabin in Concord, MA. As we drove, I briefly considered working on my crochet, but I got carsick without even completing a single round. Instead, I watched the trees whisk by as I defended myself against accusations that I had actually snuck out and painted all the leaves red and orange and gold and yellow. Don’t be silly, I laughed. That would take forever, and you know I had midterms all this week. I only painted one or two, the yellow ones, near Simmons.
They said the cabin would be on a pond but we all agreed it was a lake. We poked around the cabin and its airy rooms and dog beds, and then we dispersed to unpack and set up our beds. We got a tour of the cabin, and then three of us went outside to draw trees. I don’t know what I’m doing, we all said. My sketch isn’t really very good. The drawings were all beautiful.
After lunch, we traipsed through the yellow-orange woods. On the way, we saw the shell of a blue car, and we chained together clover flowers until we reached Merrill Farms. I fawned over little bees and bright petals and tried to tuck flowers into hair. As we headed back, the sun sank low and lit up blades of grass, and I lingered a bit behind the group, making conversation without really knowing what I was saying, and feeling like this all was a little bit too fantastical to be real.
In the evening, a few of us practiced choreography for DanceTroupe, and after we ate and cleaned up dinner and dessert, we talked about Simmons, astronomy, and song lyrics. At night, I danced in the dark and tried to map out all the stars I couldn’t see from Cambridge.
The next day, after breakfast, we went apple picking, a quintessential fall thing that I had never been aware of. All us freshmen banded together as a troop, marching through the forest to the far side of the orchard on recommendation by one of the employees. I skipped ahead and darted back like an overexcited labrador retriever. I finally get the appeal of biting into apples, I thought to myself, after indulging in my first apple straight off the branch. This is SO much better than the ones in the dining halls.
We filled our bags and stomachs with varieties of apples I’ve never heard of. Then, we browsed the farm store, digging through gourds of various shapes and sizes and contemplating whether the price of a pie was worth it. The rest of our group found us there, and we shared cider and donuts under the misty rain.
When we got back, we dispersed onto various couches and chairs to get some feeling back into our fingers and to work, or in my case, play UC Love. Since we had apples, of course we had to bake, and though I’m mostly useless in the kitchen, I’m something of an artist, myself. Jesus CHRIST what is that thing?? said someone (probably). I think I need more dough, I said.
I had a hard time the week before retreat. I was stressed and alone, spending my free time hunched over my desk studying for dreaded midterms. Every night, I curled up in my comfort hoodie, in bed far earlier than usual. The Simmons Retreat was what I needed to take a step back and revel in the beauty of the fall and the warmth of my friends. MIT is a neverending waterfall. It’s the Energizer Bunny that keeps going and going and going. But I can keep going too, and share some warm cider with my friends on the way.