The air was crisp and cold. The autumn leaves crunched under my feet. This was the day that my adventure began. I walked down the meager road that ran through the heart of my city, and I shook, both from nerves and a lack of suitable clothes. It was only October but there was already snow on the ground.
Not even the sole luminary clock against the sky gave him company to light up his steps through the night. The author, narrator, exposes his solitude, his sadness and how he dealt with it by qualifying his state as acquaintance, (l1 -l14: “I have been one acquainted with the
Vivid descriptions of the wind such as its’ “rattl[ing] the tops of garbage cans”, “dirt and dust and grime”, and “grit sting[ing] skins” create a sense of chaos that is common in the busy hustle of city life. The cold wind also “violent[ly] assault[s]” the residents of the city, allowing the reader to envision the truly excruciating and harrowing journey people in the urban setting must make regularly. Additionally, asyndeton is utilized masterfully throughout the passage to demonstrate the disarray caused by the wind. The wind finds “theater throwaways, announcements of dances and lodge meetings, the heavy waxed paper that loaves of bread had been wrapped in, the thinner waxed paper that enclosed sandwiches, old envelopes, newspapers.” This extensive list without the use of conjunctions speeds up the reading allowing a fast pace similar to the rapid attacks of the wind, enabling the reader to visualize the onslaught on the citizens.
Fallen twigs, colourless and dreadfully bland, are strewn about the squishy, muddy ground, crunching as I continue from step to step. The wind picks up the pace as it rushes to its midnight duty, stirring a family of leaves from their state of repose, generating a faint rustle. Tall trees border my
Crisp, fallen leaves painted the ground in magnificent reds and cheerful yellows. My eyes wandered through the scenery, welcoming the expanse of glorious trees reaching their branches out to the golden glow above, all speckled with whimsical yellows and reds. Where am I? The wind glided past my skin as the cool breeze refreshed my soul, unlike the familiar heat and humidity I once knew from home, as its energy bounded through the foliage. I look humorously around in search of a recognizable landmark.
Strong winds from the east pulled across the land, bringing dust with it. The grasses flickered in the gusts and filtered the dust. A light dusty haze laid atop the flat horizon that encircled and surrounded the land. Nothing could be seen for miles and for miles. The land and the blue above were infinite.
These tones are induced by the themes of night, rain, and incredible height. However just as these images are representative of these tones, Frost seems to also endorse a feeling of likeness in his fleeing of the city into the silent dimness of the adjacent countryside. The “luminary clock” symbolizes time, whether it be man made or natural. This clock seen by the author at “an unearthly height,” can be understood as the shining moon or literally just a clock located in a very high tower in the city.
BOOM! POW! A fist thrown at the man crashing down upon a cart, people screaming! Then the man suddenly disappears and reappears grabbing the taller man by the foot and knocking him down only to disappear again! The taller man rips out an airplane seat and throws it at the man with so much force the plane shook. Then the man sees a crying baby next to the taller man, once again disappearing only to reappear with the 1 year old baby in his arms!
Anzaldua story is familiar to my story in a way because of the experiences we have went through. Anzaldua sheds light on what she has been through in her essay. She has gone through some tough experiences at school, as did I. When I was smaller not only in school, but my life at home, it was hard because I never knew where I fit in. When I was with my father’s side of the family, whom are African American, it was hard because I was basically the only mixed child. All my cousins looked different from me and I did not know why. It was really hard for me growing up and trying to fit it. I would try to do things that they would do, or dress a certain way when I was with them to show that I was more like them. I thought they thought as me being
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.
In some degree, also, they diverted my mind from the thoughts over which it had brooded for the last month. I retired to rest at night; my slumbers, as it were, waited on and ministered to by the assemblance of grand shapes which I had contemplated during the day. They congregated round me; the unstained snowy mountain-top, the glittering pinnacle, the pine woods, and ragged bare ravine; the eagle, soaring amidst the clouds--they all gathered round me, and bade me be at peace.”... (page 109-110)... I remembered the effect that the view of the tremendous and ever-moving glacier had produced upon my mind when I first saw it. It had then filled me with a sublime ecstasy that gave wings to the soul, and allowed it to soar from the obscure world to light and joy.
For two hours after he had been left at his lonely post that Saturday night he stood stock-still, leaning against the trunk of a large tree, staring into the darkness in his front and trying to recognize known objects; for he had been posted at the same spot during the day. But all was now different; he saw nothing in detail, but only groups of things, whose shapes, not observed when there was something more of them to observe, were now unfamiliar. They seemed not to have been there before. A landscape that is all trees and undergrowth, moreover, lacks definition, is confused and without accentuated points upon which attention can gain a foothold. Add the gloom of a moonless night, and something more than great natural intelligence and a city education is required to preserve one 's knowledge of direction.
Left, right, back and forth… I swear we had passed the exact same pine tree for the eighth time, but how would I know I was surrounded with pine trees? The trees were tall towering above us, blending in with the darkness above. With every step we took on the snow spread ground you could hear the soft pillows of snow crunching under our feet. As dusk was setting the forest was filled with the sounds of animals coming out that night, every now and then the hoot of an owl, or the howl of a dog. Ethan still looking for a way out of the forest, never actually admitting that we were lost.
Through woods and across rivers, his eyes never lost sight of his goal and soon enough she stopped, believing she was free from his chase. Remaining as quiet as possible he snuck towards her, the dagger Hades had given him clutched in one hand, the other hand balled in a fist,
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.