The morning sun crested over the Pacific Palisades and shimmered across the waves as I dug my fingers into the cold sand.

I’m graduating soon. I’m scared, and I feel like I’m running out of time.

So as I watch the seagulls soar through the pink and orange sky, I hit replay on some of my favorite memories.

The first few frames were filled with the shrieks of excited interns on a midnight mouse hunt. The UCLA dormitories had a mouse problem – I was tasked with finding and photographing the problem. The next few were a flurry of close calls in Pauley Pavilion as volleyballs and basketballs whizzed by my head.

Many of the scenes were set in airplanes or hotel rooms. There was a snapshot of the crispy air in Seattle. The icy sidewalks in Park City, Utah. The miles of muted green grass in Lexington, Kentucky, and the humid breeze in Fort Worth, Texas. The historic red bricks that lined the streets of Washington, D.C., and the sea of red football jerseys that blanketed the stadium in Bloomington. I recalled the stench of four distinct flamingo exhibits at the Fort Worth Zoo.

There were also the more solemn memories.

I remembered the shaky voice of an elderly man at the emergency shelter, who grasped my hand as he described his harrowing escape from the Palisades fire.

I heard the screams of terrified student protesters during the 2024 pro-Palestine protests. I recalled the burst of popping sounds before chemical irritants from a less-lethal munition filled my lungs.

Some constants appeared across the celluloid winding through my Kopfkino – German for “mind cinema.”

I unraveled the miles of film featuring a lanky guy with glasses and brown, curly hair. His consistent and unshakable company never failed to make me laugh. His friendship is among the relationships I hold dearest.

I heard the distinctive tone of a witty British accent – at every early morning, late night and minute in between. Through each breaking news event, his leadership and funny quips helped the long days fly by.

I slowed down at the sight of a yellow suit jacket. I remembered her relentless dedication to journalistic ethics and business-casual attire. She carried my story before I found the words to articulate my experiences. She showed me what it means to be brave.

And in every pause, forward or rewind, I saw my parents. I saw my lunchtime phone calls with my mom. Her “Have you eaten?” texts that professed love, support and care when I needed it most. I saw the photos from my dad, of my beautiful dog and the sweetest cat. I saw his curated list of the best food on earth in a green WeChat bubble, ready for when I go home.

The sky is a pale blue now. The late May sun is warming the sand covering my fingers.

My time at the Daily Bruin dared me to dream bigger than my craziest imagination. It pushed me to aspire to be my best. It surrounded a shy, nervous 18-year-old kid with the most incredible friends and inspirational colleagues.

As I reflect on my three years at UCLA, my time at the Daily Bruin has already surpassed my wildest dreams. I’m so excited for what’s ahead.

So I stand up, dust off the sand and drive back to campus. I have content meetings to attend and many more hours inside Kerckhoff Hall 118.

Despite the headache-inducing fluorescent lights and frigid office temperature, there is nowhere that feels more like home at UCLA.

Li was the 2025-26 digital managing editor and an editorial board member. She was previously the 2024-25 Photo editor and a 2023-24 Photo contributor. Li was also an Illustrations and News contributor.