North Shore Country Day School - Mirror Yearbook (Winnetka, IL)

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Eighth Grade FRONT ROW: Ruth Mayer, Diane Flint, Sue Wells, Laurie Litten, Polly Ross, Gwen Miller, Helen Brown, Art Jessen, Betsy Perkins, Phyllis Becker, Choumy Mac-Arthur, Suki Lipman, Lisa Young SECOND ROW: Ruth Burnell, Steve Geering, Craig Johnson, Jenny Donahue, Michelle Kovvalik, Mila Watkins, George Booz, Jeff Hoffman, Pegge Carton, David Schweppe, Bob Cody, Martin Springer, Don Whiteman, BALCONY: Mary Garvin, Chris Reinhold, Laurie Schmitt, Dean Turner, T. Q. White, Joe Wilkinson, Geff Kenly, Chas Durham, Jim Leslie, Ed Gordon, Fred Alsberg, Huntley Gill, Ken Paul ABSENT: Clancy Philipsborn 28

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Through the trees outside the window the setting sun disappeared over the shabby grass hill. Inside the house the fireplace soothed the quiet room. The gay pictures stood out from the dull blue gray wall. The quilted rug messed with magazines covered the bare brown floor. The little table with the clean ashtray stood by the big dulled orange colored chair. In the bare corner the wood- en varnished chair stood with the gay flowers on the mantle overhead. The shiny bronze and irons in the black fireplace had no more wood to burn. The white plaster designed the fireplace. Nick Johnson The trees on the lawn are as black as soot. Some have leaves as yellow as gold fluttering in the fierce driv- ing wind. Leaves are tumbling to the ground every second. Squirrels scam- per excitedly across the lawn look- ing desperately for food. A dog as white as cotton romps contently into a clump of bushes. Horrified chip- monks scatter from their hide-away in disorder as the huge dog lumbers in and invades their privacy. A snazzy red corvette speeds by furiously and the leaves scatter pell- mell over the lawn. Above a jet plane whizzes through the grey clouds. The cold breeze hints the arrival of winter. Squirrels construct their nest in un- occuppied trees and ignore the occup- pied trees. Birds soar through the ocean of air. The barren trees display that summer is rapidly fading away. Bob Stibolt 29