My other senses are also overwhelmed. The aroma of Balsam Fir tickles my nose, reminding me of Christmastime and my family. Yet miles away from D.C., I feel at home—with five roommates, family dinners, and a 400-acre backyard, or just my essentials in a backpack on unfamiliar trails.

Thursday brought rain and wind, disguising the fall foliage below the three peaks we visited. On Friday, we ascended Little Bigelow, finally able to take in an ombre of fall leaves. Yet, even as the mountains seem never-ending in the distance, all I can think about is the vibrancy of green in these forests. The color is dynamic, taking different forms high and low, smooth or textured. Green is the supporting actor waiting to be noticed when the summit wins best actor year after year. I am suddenly struck by a sense of gratitude for the disappointing views atop West Peak and Avery. Maybe this was a sign to appreciate the little bits of green everywhere—that green isn’t mundane, even if it’s ubiquitous.

– Daphne Easterly-Zebley is attending from the Maret School in Washington D.C.