Descriptive Essay On A Tree

The Witch of Blackbird Pond, by Elizabeth George Speare, shows true friendship in the story. At one point in the story, some people turned Katherine Tyler in as a witch at a trial, but she came out unharmed. Friendship is an important trait, and that it supports loyalty, so because Kit made a lot of friends, and for example, at the trial, one of her best friends, Nathaniel Eaton, stood up for her.

In the novel Speak, by Laurie Halse Anderson the author uses the ‘Tree’ motif to show that Melinda’s growth though the whole book because In the first quote, Melinda is using the tree to represent how she feels as if nobody can see her. In the second quote she shows how she feels out of place. In the third quote she talks about how with some improvement, the tree could be better. Just like how with some improvement she could be better. In the beginning of the novel, the motif of Tree represents how Melinda is develops as a human, deals with her rape and all its aftermath, and discovers who she is without other people to identify her, her trees also become more complex. Melinda had a difficult time working with the tree. She begins by using

Tenement districts in Brooklyn throughout the early 1900s provided challenges that entire families were forced to handle. A Tree Grows In Brooklyn, by Betty Smith, depicts the Nolan family facing difficulties that even children had to overcome while they lived in one of these districts. Francie Nolan, the main character of the novel, is faced with the greatest difficulty of them all: growing up.

In Barbara Kingsolver’s story, “The Bean Trees”, something that makes it so effective is her use of figurative language to depict scenery. In chapter 12, Mattie takes Taylor, Esperanza and Estevan to a beautiful desert at the time of the first rain, so they can see the natural world come to life. In order to make the scene come alive, Kingsolver uses sillies, metaphors and personification as a mean of figurative language.

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. The night hung over us in a dark, cloudy sheet. No one could ask for a better backdrop for this decidedly frightful evening.

This passage from “A white Heron”, by Sarah Orne Jewett, details a short yet epic journey of a young girl, and it is done in an entertaining way. Jewett immediately familiarizes us with our protagonist, Sylvia, in the first paragraph, and our antagonist: the tree. However, this is a bit more creative, as the tree stands not only as an opponent, but as a surmountable object that can strengthen and inspire Sylvia as she climbs it. This “old pine” is described as massive, to the point where it, “towered above them all and made a landmark for sea and shore miles and miles away.” (Line 8). This kind of description shows the reader how impressive and majestic this tree is, as it puts a vivid picture in the reader’s mind as something that is not only unrivaled in terms of altitude, but it can also be seen from the sea, which highlights its stature as a wholly independent object. Old as it is, this pine is strong, and does not need any assistance from the ecosystem surrounding it. The importance of this giant tree, along with other details that make the story more interesting, is what dramatizes this young heroine’s adventure.

The approach of autumn was well on its way. “Autumn’s hand was lying heavy on the hillsides. Bracken was yellowing, heather passing from bloom, and the clumps of wild-wood taking the soft russet and purple of decline. Faint odors of wood smoke seemed to fit over the moor, and the sharp lines of the hill fastnesses were drawn as with a graving-tool against the sky.” As Ellie drove down the road she was much more aware of all her surroundings. She grew up in a suburban area and always knew she would live there forever. Cypress is where she grew up and had most of her adventures. Though Cypress was where Ellie’s heart was, she was ready to start her new journey at USC. Since the age of ten, Ellie has always dreamed of going to USC, eight years later those dreams became reality.

The world has yet to know “its” true secrets and dive deeper under the mask of perception. Though we may feel like nature is throwing karma at us at times, we continue to honor nature for its patience. In the poems, “Ode to Enchanted Light” by Pablo Neruda and “Sleeping in the Forest” by Mary Oliver, both of the literary works share an appreciation for nature. Though this is true for both, they express their love and feelings differently. Pablo Neruda’s poem praises light as enchanting, whereas Mary Oliver’s poem personifies Earth as a motherly figure and gives off mother nature vibes. The earth seems to comfort the speaker as they go through a series of gentle, calm events to help them sleep. Although both poems glorify nature, one specifically celebrates light while the other shares the speaker’s relationship with the earth. Both poems perform different methods to evaluate and share its purpose.

The wind whipped past my head as I pushed myself faster. I could see the break in the trees up ahead, the sun shining on the poppy field through the small opening. I ran as fast as my legs would travel, my heart beating out of my chest. I could hear the footsteps coming closer and closer. My lungs were about to give out, my hips were burning from the running and my feet were starting to swell in my boots. I glanced behind me and only see the thick brush and shrubs, i slow down a pace to catch my breath but quickly pick up speed. I am so close to the field i can smell the sweet aroma of Poppy and buttercups.

Growing up as a little girl or boy, everyone always saw the innocent side of a child. Children always tend to obey the rules to make their parents proud, but sometimes that gets boring. Children start to view their parents as a bossy person telling them what they can and cannot do. In Tuck Everlasting by Natalie Babbit, an innocent young girl named Winnie Foster thinks that her mom and grandmother are bossing her around. Due to this, Winnie longs for freedom. Winnie Foster does get what she asks for, but in a terrifying way. Winnie is indeed innocent, but her first decision leads her on the path of many conflicts and choices.

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. Only a squirrel stirring up the leaves that caused my dog to bark or a gust a wind shaking the leaves from their homes made any sound. The woods started getting denser and the deeper you

Earthmaker made the world with trees and fields, with rivers, lakes, and springs, and with hills and valleys. However, there weren’t any humans, and so one day he decided to make some. He scooped out a hole in a stream bank and lined the hole with stones to make a hearth, and he built a fire there. Then he took some clay and made a small figure that he put in the hearth to bake. He then realized that it was only half-baked. That figure became the white people. He decided to try again, so he put a new figure in the hearth to bake. He realized that this figure was overbaked and it became the black people. The Earthmaker decided to try one more time. He put this figure in the hearth to bake and this figure was baked just right, and it became the red people. The red people became many tribes, and they spread across the land. Among these tribes were the Ojibwe, the Ottawa, and the Potawatomi. A man

Smooth, oval rocks lined the bank of the secretive lake. Discarded and neglected; overlaid with spongy moss and choked by fallen, decaying leaves from the unclothed and withering trees above. As the lake swelled around the ashen boulders, icy, black water lifelessly lapped against the long, thin beams of wood holding up a rickety pier. The structure was covered in splinters and ragged, iron nails, and as it reached out into the centre of the sombre lake, it became more and more distant. Half-cut beams lined the sides of the pier, as nettle patches hissed from the shore when the water drew too near. Small, stagnant puddles, on the uneven planks of timber wood reflected the dark, brooding sky above - rarely disturbed by the callous slices of moonlight seeping through the clouds, creating a specular reflection through a ripple in the languid water.

After a long wait for 1 hour, I pushed the tall door to enter. I looked around and saw serene teal walls. Elegant and exquisite painting hung on the wall so that they surrounded fawn-coloured leather couch. Next to it was a colossal window displaying an alluring view (Nature paints the most astonishing paintings!) The mountains - in the distance - reached the faint spread of clouds. Verdant hills filled the enormous space near the water bodies with clean and cool blue water flowing calmly. I head over to the window. Lost in the view as I look down, I see the reflection of the crib. Before walking towards the wooden latticed cradle, I felt shivers go down my back because of the mixture of anticipation and agitation. I took a deep breath as if to gain confidence. Walking further I felt just like I did on the first day of my new school, like I felt just before my first ever solo dance performance. I look down at the mattress covered with a thin and soft sheet and in the middle of it - wrapped up in a furry blanket - there he

Authors Frederick Jackson Turner and Zitkala-Sa can be compared in one aspect: they both have a great deal to say about land, agency, and the American frontier. The similarities between the two end there, however. Turner is a major proponent of typical frontier ideology. He is passionate about the land, but only insofar as it can be used for further westward expansion. He insists that “Americans” are characterized by their rugged individualism, yet cannot imagine Native Americans as anything other than a single-minded collective, a mere object for colonists to act upon. He believes that cultural consolidation is not only a positive thing, but the best possible indication of a society’s progress. Zitkala-Sa, on the other hand, understands the