<p>Here is an essay written by a student who comes from a unique background. She uses details and a good hook. She now attends a highly selective university.</p>
<p>The essay itself in part depends on a photo of the place where she lives, but according to CC rules, I cannot post it. If you want to see it and some others of her world please google me and add E.M. Forster's famous epigraph to Howard's End: "only connect".</p>
<p>I posted another quite different essay recently on CC and the few reactions to it could not have disagreed more. What do you think of this one? I am doing research on essays and who reads them and how to write a great one successfully. I hope you will take the time to comment here. Thank you.</p>
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<p>It is 5.50am sharp when I start hearing my parents and our two co-workers for the summer entering the kitchen below my bedroom. The radio sings. My dad starts turning the cheese he made yesterday upside down. One by one, again and again, I hear the loud tonks when he flips each cheese over by hand. I tried this once, but given that each one weights about 20 pounds, I sure had my troubles. Each cheese needs to be flipped and the towel around it changed five times, in order to become stable enough in its form to be put, after almost a day of such care, into a salt bath. </p>
<p>Every day, without fail, my dad is already working before I wake each morning whenever I spend my nights on our mountain. Given that the whole house is built out of wood, every tiny sound can be heard no matter where I am. I know the routine; if I dont get up within the next five minutes, my dad will either pleasantly ring one of the huge black bells outside the house, displayed for decoration and my lovely wake up calls, or just shout my name to get me to come downstairs for breakfast. </p>
<p>Therefore, on this particular morning, I get up myself up and dressed quickly . It is in this moment, shortly before 6am, during which my room starts to fill with light. I walk to the window and see what is for me one of my favorite views in the whole world. The mountain range of the Swiss Alps greets me with the sun rising in an orange sky. Quickly, sunray after sunray touches the landscape and within a minute, my room is entirely lit by the first sunlight of the day. </p>
<p>I love this mountain house of ours. All wooden, the smells of cheese being made, the faint sound of animals in the barn during the day, the fresh air which is incomparable to any place I have been so far in the world. Nature up here is complete. Surrounded by gigantic stony mountains and the sky above, our mountain valley lies within a wild and untouched part of Switzerland that has been owned by our family for at least 500 years. Besides a few pine trees, the forest does not populate the earth this far up on 1800 meters above sea level. Many stones cover the landscape; little streams of the freshest water make their way down to the valley. I could usually stand in the front porch and look down the valley for hours. But there is work to be done.</p>
<p>(Photo excised)</p>
<p>One after another, or sometimes, just all at once (which can be very stressful and potentially dangerous), the cows that have been enjoying their night outside, are herded by my mother. On this day, they all finally enter the barn. It normally takes me two weeks to know every cow by name and where she needs to be tied up in the barn. And yes, they do look all different in some way. It is the same as with humans; some are more noticeable and in fact beautiful than others. Like Cina, who actually tried to bite me the first time I met her. I definitely remembered her afterwards My dad works in the cattle business. Our family keeps 120 cows over the course of 3 months in summer; afterwards, most of them are auctioned off all over Switzerland. </p>
<p>After a day of long work, I sit outside the house, drinking a Heineken with my father while my mother is almost done preparing one of her always delicious dinners. The sensations of yet another day up on the mountain run through my mind again: Me sitting next to the warm body of a cow while the animal is getting milked. Smelling the hay and milk. Being in nature with my family. Having an almost literal heartwarming feeling inside me from being, really being, up on the top of my world. Spending the day amongst my family, helping to make the money that is spent later onto pay for my college tuition. It is now that I understand what the word appreciation really means. This is deep thankfulness indicates how much I have grown up. Loving my origins, my parents, our land, now, learning to appreciate our trade. </p>
<p>My parents hard work and love have done far more than to just bring me into the world. Today;, each day, I strive for new knowledge, keep alive each day the wonder of a child for all that there is to see and touch, smell and hear, and now say, in the world. Here and everywhere. Knowing where I come from and how I got to where I am shows me that I am not a teenager anymore. I am a young adult who holds a part of my family and this mountain, and all that this means, inside me. More importantly, perhaps, I am willing to travel across the world and take chances, in and out of the classroom, to show my parents just how much I appreciate my life abroad and right here on my mountaintop. </p>
<p>Morning glory on our mountain</p>
<p>(photo excised)</p>