All kids that grow up in Morcoast are often told the stories of the tree with a scar in it’s trunk. This is one of those stories that can be passed from generation to generation, and told over and over again without getting old. Of course it wasn’t long enough ago to be passed down to even a generation. The most popular telling of this story opened up with the line. I could have swore I was there that morning a few years ago.... The sky was dark almost pitch black, the roads were filled with rain. The rain ran down the trees as if they were crying. It seemed that they knew of the lightings vicious plan to hurt one of their neighboring trees. The thunder that morning boomed loudly making it seem as if the sky was cracking. A helpless lone cat
The first two chapters, “A Darkling Plain” and “Prelude to Dust” explain human dislocation that developed from this drought. The next two parts, lets readers view the harsh conditions. Survivors of this crisis give the reader their perspective of the storm and how it tore down their community. The story then goes on to describe how humans misuse of these plains resulted in the “black blizzards,” that destroyed farms, homes, and top soil.
Double Entry Journal “Scar it, give it a twisted branch – perfect trees don’t exist. Nothing is perfect. Flaws are interesting. Be the tree” (pg. 177)
“Lets finish getting our revenge.” They walked out of the door and into the dark snowy night. The beam of light from their flashlights sliced through the shadowy forest. They followed the trail of blood, continuing on through the wintry night. Suddenly they heard the crunch of walking in snow, coming from ahead.
The author introduces the approaching storm: “There is something uneasy in the Los Angeles air this afternoon, some unnatural stillness, some tension”. Describing the weather as unnaturally still, having tension, and being uneasy, indicates the people’s response to the anticipated storm. She continues describing the storm’s violence as well as the people’s violence stating how an attorney “shot and killed his wife, their two sons, and himself” and how a divorcée was “murdered and thrown from a moving car”. Meanwhile, “the San Gabriel fire was still out of control, and the wind in town was blowing eighty miles an hour”. The storm causes chaos in the environment as well as in the people.
The once starry night now resembled a cluster of tiny white smudges engulfed by a grim lifeless mass. Just as my eyes were fully shut, I heard a distant yell, followed by a woman 's piercing shriek. My last thought, “What is happening to me.” “We need to evacuate the building.” “Wake the girl, we have to move, NOW.”
It was now getting very late and going on midnight. Andrew turned off the lights in our room we hopped into our beds in the dark of room and the light coming from the flickering shots of lightning going through the sky. The rain was hitting the roof so hard i could not even hear myself breathing. I decided to look out the window one more times after i got up to use the restroom, i did not believe the sight i saw with my two eyes. There was no one outside but one man in the alleyway across the street standing in the rain holding an object which looked to be a long knife like object.
Trees generally carry a positive connotation such as flourishing in life and bearing fruits of knowledge. In this case, the tree permanently etched into Sethe’s back, thanks to schoolteacher’s severe punishments, represents schoolteacher’s corruptness in not only his duties but in the way he looks at slaves. Although Amy Denver attempts to place a more positive spin on Sethe’s scar, by referring the scars to, “... A chokecherry tree. Trunk, branches, and even leaves.
Nighttime had already settled in, and the clock was ticking closer to twelve a.m. It would have probably seemed like any other peaceful night. Suddenly, walls began to tremble. The floor started shaking. Loud booms rang out.
In paragraph 15 the author states “In the middle of the night, I woke up to the sound of thunder and the feel of rain blowing in through the open window.” This shows us as readers that they were frightened by what was to come of the storm. As
Although at first glance the tree seemed ugly to most people, Rose Mary found it beautiful even though it was twisted and bent as well as scraggly. Inspired by the beauty of the Joshua tree she tells them to go into town, and
When people hear about Oakland they think that it’s all about “Thug life” and that if you go there it will endanger your life. People judge without getting to know Oakland’s community (people). I grew up in Oakland, California and I love it. Oakland is home of the A’s, the Raiders, and the Golden State Warriors. Yes, Oakland may have crimes in it, but that doesn’t mean everybody in Oakland is dangerous.
That night, I looked out my window only to see tree limbs whipping around and snapping in half. I was so scared to sleep in my bedroom, I kept dreaming that a tree was going to come crashing into my room and crush me. Instead of sleeping, I stayed up all night with my dad. My dad was always interested in finding out what took out our power, but the conditions were too rough outside for him to go searching through the
A Separate Peace Summer Reading Study Guide Answer the following questions in complete sentences. Your responses should be typed and in proper MLA format. Your responses will be collected and graded upon your return to school. 1. Describe the town and school where the story takes place.
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 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.