Darkness engulfs the surrounding earth except the lake’s surface and porch floor. A large glass tabletop is bound together by a cold metal edge. Five outdoor metal chairs, each equipped with a cushion stare blankly off into the crisp autumn’s midnight air. The scuffed wooden floors are barely illuminated. The lights glisten off the rippling lake. Rain sprinkles onto the damp ground.
The gentle pattering of the rain continues with only the sound of a light breeze waking the trees. A bolt of lightning flashes and shows the cloaked cabin. Shapeless trees next to the lake transform into tall and slender pines. The highly anticipated clap of thunder booms across the small lake. The light in the cabin flips on, and fails to illuminate the blackness beyond the cloth curtain caked with years of cigarette smoke. The reflection of the lights across the lake flutter as the wind howls and generates waves. The rain beats down, soaking the ground, and a thin stream flows between the wooden floor and the opposing cabin. The long overdue scents of rain disperse throughout the breeze. The rain wavers, not sure of itself. It crashes like an ocean wave against the shore; just as quickly
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The light continues its battle with the darkness through the tainted curtain. It reflects off the table and resembles the swaying lake. Rain blankets the earth and the lightening throws itself throughout the menacing sky. The window goes dark. Shaking the ground, the thunder throws the bedroom light on! Between the ever decreasing moments of darkness; the cabin around the window emerges. The square shape and color of its light blue siding shows age. Another window to the right, and two windows peak out over the ground peering into the basement. Water floods down the sloped yard as it swims toward the thrashing water. Panic spreads throughout the bending trees as they keep their footings into the waterlogged
Once the Wisconsin Ice Sheet fully melted, the basic dimensions of the lake were fixed. However, the rocks we see today needed to rebound by about 170 m from the weight of the glacier ice. The last ice age gives Blackstone a surface area of about 5.2 km², a volume of 0.1 km³, a mean depth of just over 20 m, a perimeter of nearly 35 km.
The setting is almost always raining. Now if you also go read about the rooms and the attic, it doesn't sound the most welcoming. She mentions how she climbs the creaky steps which are not a very good sound to hear in a
Wesley lets Rain out of the house during the storm and she becomes lost, adding to Rose’s emotional turmoil. Rose is becoming crazed, confused and concerned when she realizes that her Rain is all alone and lost: ““Rain! Rain! Rain! Rain” I scream into the damp, cloudy, and rainy morning
This intensifies the feeling of seclusion and the mood of the story much like in “The Fall of a City.” Nowlan begins the story with describing the rain as “great, pulsating sheets of water” and the sound of it as a “muted banjo twanging on the roof.” With
A far rush of wind sounded and a gust drove through the tops of the trees like a wave. The sycamore leaves turned up their silver sides, the brown, dry leaves on the ground scudded a few feet. And row on row of tiny wind waves flowed up the pool’s green surface. As quickly as it had come, the wind died, and the clearing was quiet again. The heron stood in the
Once outside the camp, “it seemed as though an even darker night was waiting for us on the other side” (84). The motif of night can be identified effortlessly because of the key words and attention grabbing context of the literary
6 The night was cold the midnight mist was heavy. Charles yawning could feel a stale flavor as he inhaled the mist, he could feel the condensation in his mouth. He looked at his watch, his escort was late, and he could never make it through the forest at this hour. At least not safely, a warm air passes his ear, and Charles heart skips a beat as the source speaks. “Young man are you lost,” he says lightly, Charles turns to see a man in his mid fifties with a five o’clock shadow and a lantern.
I leaned over and breathed heavy. Mr.Wychers says as he slips his water bottle back into his bag, ‘’I'll take the lead this time,’’ Not long after that, a soft drizzle started. Little droplets of water started to fall from the sky, we started to pick up speed. We darted through the condo's and sped towards the neighborhood. The rain now was a total downpour, a stream of the cold liquid poured down from the clouds.
Immediately after Clerval informs Victor that his brother William passes away, which is later revealed to be the work of the monster, A storm begins to brew. Victor states that “the thunder burst with a terrific crash over my head... vivid flashes of lightning dazzled my eyes, illuminating the lake, making it appear like a vast sheet of fire” (Shelley, 84). Lightning flashes before Victor’s eyes as a reminder from Zeus of his wrong doings. Shelley uses a simile comparing the lake the lake to fire, which draws a connection to the story of Prometheus the man that went too far giving fire to man.
The impact of the weather scene is a way to indirectly relate to the murder of Victor’s young brother, William. The author, Shelley utilizes weather to convey the Victor’s emotional feelings about the murder of his bother William. Through imagery in the quote, Shelley is able to utilize words to describe the weather relating them to both the storm and what has happened to our protagonist. To me, the flashes of light illuminate the lake which is his brother. William’s illumination is the light of his life is soon quenched when the author describes the “pitchy darkness”
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.
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. Surrounding the lake, lay a rigid, pine forest, which stretched far past the mountainous boundaries - rising high, around the solitary lake. A death-like mist pervaded through the trees enveloping them in a gelid, cutting fog. A silent, lonely willow shivered as the still, biting air engulfed its aged branches in an icy cage and suffocated its stiffened lungs, causing each freezing breath to drag. Crusted leaves stacked one on top of the other as
The cool, upland air, flooding through the everlasting branches of the lively tree, as it casts a vague shadow onto the grasses ' fine green. Fresh sunlight penetrates through the branches of the tree, illuminating perfect spheres of water upon its green wands. My numb and almost transparent feet are blanketed by the sweetness of the scene, as the sunlight paints my lips red, my hair ebony, and my eyes honey-like. The noon sunlight acts as a HD camera, telling no lies, in the world in which shadows of truth are the harshest, revealing every flaw in the sight, like a toddler carrying his very first camera, taking pictures of whatever he sees. My head looks down at the sight of my cold and lifeless feet, before making its way up to the reaching arms of an infatuating tree, glowing brightly virescent at the edges of the trunk, inviting a soothing, tingling sensation to my soul.
An hour and a half had passed, and now the boat was swaying harder and harder from side to side. The black thunderous black clouds that had originally been seen on the horizon to the west had finally made its presence to the boat. The eyes on everyone started looking like they were in a drunk daze, because of the momentus rock. It only took a few minutes from the nice wave-pool type waves to transfer into what was now fifteen-foot waves and a downpour of large heavy stinging raindrops. Turmoil and regret as to why the captain had let us out entered my mind, even though I had
I peered out the window as I took off my raincoat. The rain pitter pattered against the pavement softly, creating a lulling sound. I shook my head, fiercely trying to concentrate so that I didn’t fall asleep. I still have video games and homework to complete! The rain has always been a thing that could put me to sleep at the drop of a hat, in fact it’s my favorite weather.