The dismal weather hanging over the sky still prompts my memory of when that incident happened; a phenomenon of which rebuilt my entire perspective of how I perceived the world.
Emerald green leaves that were slightly veiled by the lingering morning shadows surrounded me that day as I immersed myself in my conventional day-to-day routine of walking. Fortunately, the weather was extremely welcoming, where there was no sign whatsoever that hinted any distorted weather for that day, reassuring me of my safety on the mountain trails. However, I was soon to realise that there was no such thing as promised safety in the unpredictable realm of nature. where I woke up for my usual walk on the mountainside path nearby my house. Since there were more of the fluffy white figures in the sky than most other days, it was a splendid walk; the sun’s rays weren’t too strong, there was no sign of rain and in addition to that, the temperature was perfect. As I was greatly appreciating the wonderful atmosphere and scenery of nature that enveloped my entire body and mind, I felt a sudden rush of grass and the smell of earth around me that had not been there a second ago. After that followed a stabbing pain that coursed through my whole body as I crashed my way downhill, rolling down endlessly as if I were a spherical object on a tilted surface. However, the next unbearable shock of agony that struck me became a saviour as it put my uncontrollable body movement to a stop. Red tainted my
By Saturday afternoon, the eighty-seven residents of the rural southern town of Wrongberight have borne the wrath of four days of intense intermittent rainstorms and to add to their woes, another storm approaches the town from the northeast. One of the locals, Clemmy Sue Jarvis since birth has lived here and has a homespun philosophy concerning weather – ‘weather will be weather and she will do as she damn well pleases’. Therefore, around four on this particular Saturday, as ominous clouds lace the sky and soaring Pines bend to the rhythm of gusting wind, she lifts her petite frame into her rusty Ford pickup, and gradually eases out of her driveway. Cautiously, she turns onto Flat Bottom Road and follows it south along the edge of the
Throughout this reading think about if the Oregon trail was truly dangerous. The first thing these travelers had to think about was what season they were going to set off in,
In the memoir, “A Long Way Gone,” by Ishmael Beah, the author’s natural imagery reveals his struggle to keep hope alive as he watches his family and country fall apart. Specifically, after walking two straight days without sleeping, Beah claims that, “Even the air seemed to want to attack me and break my neck” (49). Obviously, Beah is beginning to feel as if everything is out to hurt him, as violence is spreading all across his homeland of Sierra Leone. Nature is usually meant to be welcoming, but as Beah is struggling to survive day to day and find food in constant fear of the Rebels, even something like wind can start to feel hostile. Additionally, on the third day of wandering in search of a village, in a forest so thick the sky is barely
Mimi Goes to Harlem I was lying in a pool of blood. It was my own. Deep gashes on my face and neck were gurgling. The rhinestone collar I wore did little to protect me.
I spent months, years even, quite literally, drowning. I didn’t just have cramps; I had what felt like a caged bird inside of me, feral, and flapping its wings in a frenzy of feathers. I didn’t just feel senses of sharp pain; I would drop to the ground, forcefully, (hunched over a pillow, rocking back and forth, clinging to my consciousness)-- as waves of impending destruction deluged me like Niagra Falls. I didn’t just experience brain fog; I experienced dementia comparable to nursing home patients, ushered to their daily meals down the same halls they wandered every day, but never seemed to remember. Reality’s gravity pulled me into a dark, hollow place matched only by my physically weakened
Peighton Senges The Colors of The Crescent Trail As I stepped out into the crisp,chilly air from the warmth of my mom’s Trailblazer, I had only two things on my mind: I think I might get hypothermia and I really hope that my dog doesn't eat a squirrel. Underneath my feet the hard gravel crunched as I made my way over to the worn path on which the sun cast beams of light that danced through sun bleached leaves of gold, ruby reds, and bold oranges. It all seemed too quiet except for the steady panting of my dog along the trail.
A deep silence always surrounded the mountains; even the wind seemed to carry it, spreading it through every valley and cave. We stopped walking at daybreak every day, today when I looked up to see the group stopped I fell onto my backpack and looked around with my elbows in the snow. The sun rose below me seeming to rest on the top of the mountains. Gone was the familiar terrain, the herds of wild yak and horses keeping us company, and the rolling green of the hills. Today the sun was not rising above me.
While strange shapes would show, and so would colors, I began to get dizzy, trying to avoid the terrifying spiders and what was said to be vicious scorpions and snakes, I became hopeless not able to hold my imagination and not knowing what was reality, I became hungry. I became so hungry that I began to eat the baby spiders crawling up my throbbing leg and as the day became longer the more I became lonelier not knowing what the future would hold for me. As the night grew darker so did the noise and creaking I heard, not knowing where the mysterious noise had come from I became severally frightened. While wishing my peers were here to comfort me, I began to think about how enraged they must be with me for shattering the majestic carpet. Soon I began to doubt the forgiveness of my peers.
With the use of imagery, Gary Paulsen shows us that the outdoors is unpredictable. Furthermore, with the help of description, the reader can experience what it's like being in Gary Paulsen's shoes without going through the cruel, frigid temperatures and gruesome deaths. Finally Paulsen can change the mood with his words faster than you can say WOODSONG! While nature is also mesmerizing, it can still surprise you with memorable casualties that can cause an unanticipated turn. Paulsen starts off by taking us to "a grandly beautiful winter morning, the
Just before reaching the top, the mist dissipated and sunlight shone through, guiding me to my destination. Such enchanting experiences completely altered my view of the outdoors; I soon began forcing my family to go with me on adventures. Once I left the crowded areas of Yosemite, exploring the more obscure hikes, nature encircled me, opening my ears to the little details. A pollen pod bursts as it reached the floor, sap glistens as it hardened on bark.
I looked out from the passenger side window as we pulled into our parking spot. The trees were beginning to go bare in the frigid October weather, and the ground was covered in their dry, crispy leaves. The four of us were going on a haunted hayride tonight, a popular past-time for season. We clambered out of the car and left our bags behind. It had rained the day before, and it made the ground beneath us soft with mud and trampled leaves.
Everyone belongs to different places, and everyone has a different personality and identity. Identity, or the way you characterize yourself, can change a person’s actions, words, and feelings. People feel the need to belong somewhere whether it 's school or at home or anywhere else. Everyone has different personalities no matter what age they are. Children 's’ personalities are to be nice, have fun and stay a kid forever.
Still admiring the constellation, I took a deep breath of cool mountain air and started walking. Under the dim light, I could see the faint features of my cabin mates and my counselors. Even though it was only 3am, I wasn’t tired at all. I was ready to make the two and a half mile walk to my favorite place in the whole world. As we entered the forest, the ground turned from grass to gravel, and the moonlight barely leaked through the dense trees.
Summers have an air of relaxation to them for most people, but for me I can barely find a moment's rest. Because I work in the hospitality industry, summer is the busiest time of the year. My apartment is a 3 minute walk from the beach and yet I only rarely get to enjoy it. Although there are days, there are precious days, when I can just stop and smell the ocean. Where I can just sit there all day, seemingly without a care in the world.
A memorable day I my life is when I first found out I was a diabetic. I was scared and didn’t really understand what was happening. I was too sick, and for the most part out of my mind. But, what I do remember is a lot of pain and a few visitors. It wasn’t the best day and I don’t remember every detail.