Cedar Ridge: Creative Writing Student Highlight
"Cedar Ridge lived quietly between endless cornfields and the edge of a pine forest in the heart of Central Pennsylvania, almost like it had been put there by accident. You wouldn’t find it on most maps, besides a faded speck of grey that blended into the background like it was already halfway forgotten." - Cara Rickard
The Inspire program at the UVA | Northern Virginia gives high school students the unique opportunity to explore courses in subjects they’re passionate about. Meet Cara Rickard, an Inspire 2025 Creative Writing student. Her writing sample below highlights the imagination and craft she brought to last summer’s course.
Cedar Ridge
Cedar Ridge lived quietly between endless cornfields and the edge of a pine forest in the heart of Central Pennsylvania, almost like it had been put there by accident. You wouldn’t find it on most maps, besides a faded speck of grey that blended into the background like it was already halfway forgotten.
It was the kind of place where people drank sweet tea and moved into the house next door to the one they grew up in. It was tables set with colorful woven mats, church bells every hour, and Friday night football games.
The people were compassionate in the smile-at-one-another-on-the-streets kind of way, but it was a rehearsed friendliness, as if they had been doing it for so long they had forgotten how to mean it.
On the South end of Cedar Ridge, a forest filled with sycamore trees cast shadows on the ground, squirrels barely daring to dart between their roots, desperately trying to collect acorns to hide. The sounds of nature felt suffocating, filtered through thick tree trunks, dim light staining the ground in shards of gold.
On the North end, the streets twisted as if sketched by hand. The roads were lined with identical homes: peeling paint, old porch lights that flickered but never died, mailboxes that creaked loudly when opened, rose bushes that were overgrown but still smelled sweet in the spring, window shutters that fell from their hinges, and children’s toys scattered across the yard, forgotten or deserted.
Many parts of the town were long abandoned, like the old diner on Melrose Street that had had a “temporarily closed”sign over the door for 12 years, or the shed behind Cedar Ridge High School, so overgrown with vines it looked like a part of the forest.
The most intriguing place in Cedar Ridge, however, was the old train station at the very edge of town, which hadn’t seen a train in nearly 30 years but still somehow managed to eerily draw one in. The rusted brown tracks were littered with old cigarettes, metal choked by weeds before vanishing into overgrown thicket in the distance. Benches lined a wall of splintering wooden poles, the black paint beginning to peel and reveal the wood underneath. There was a rich smell of spilled oil, mixed with the sweets cent of maple trees from across the track. Somewhere in the distance, you could hear the ghostly whistle of a train that would never arrive.
The scene reminded Eleanor of an old black and white movie, where kids ran through crowds holding vibrant-colored lollipops, and lovers kissed goodbye as if the train that called for passengers would carry them away forever. You could see it then, the smoke billowing out like spun sugar, and the conductors cracking loud jokes that echoed through the station.
But Eleanor was alone here. There were no more kids or conductors, just graffiti-stained cement and lamps that dripped yellow light like molasses. Cloaked in thick silence all around, only broken by a bird that dared to perch on the overhead shelf of the station, before it flew away, as if it knew better.
It was a warm day in mid-September, but a chilling breeze swept through every now and then, a sign of the changing season. The leaves on the trees were still green, but their shades were muted, as if the life had been sucked out of them.
Eleanor sat on an old bench, the wood soft from years of use and the concrete below her feet faded. She pulled her sleeves down to cover her hands as a breeze swept by, pulling off a handful of leaves and scattering them across the track.
She wished she could go back, in that moment, to the station when it had hummed with life—back to Cedar Ridge when it still breathed. When the diner on Melrose Street still smelled like french fries and strawberry milkshakes, when the smiles were genuine and the people behind them were filled with joy. But Cedar Ridge continued to fade away, like the last note of a song no one sang anymore, waiting to be missed by someone who cared enough to mourn it.
Inspire is a UVA | Northern Virginia academic summer program for rising 10th-12th graders to explore new interests and skills. Creative Writing is a one-week, virtual, course that provides students with the time, space, and guidance to focus deeply on their own writing. Each day combines short lectures, generative exercises, and guided workshops designed to help students build a sustainable writing routine and explore their voice. Bring your creativity to life this summer in the Inspire 2026 course!