As I lied on the ground in my backyard, I looked at the hawk flying above this Southern California neighborhood, located in the foothills west of the beach. If I was that bird, I could see almost everything I need to live. I could see Lake Poway, a squirrel at the base of the sycamore. If I was that bird I could see the California White Butterfly, resting on the goldenrod. Unlike me the hawk had everything it needed to live, but I needed respect. As I watched the hawk, it saw my friend and me lying on our backs with our legs intertwined. We were home from college and leg wrestling to pass the afternoon. It was a manner of fighting we were taught to call Indian wrestling. As the hawk disappeared, I lost. We rolled over on our knees and stood
The speakers show the hawks to be naturally mortal. In a world where there is danger the hawks soar high. The hawks are described as fierce and daring. They have arrogance in them, even in the face of death, they do not beg for mercy from god. The Hawks imbibe nature’s purest form of freedom, which is missed by most people who live in fear.
I’m gonna talk about the book “Night” that we have read in class during the second term. The story has for setting the time period of the WWII, in Europe. The story is about Elie, a jew and his family that are facing a lot of struggles because of their religion. Over the course of the book, Elie changes from believing in God to not believe in God. This is important to the book as a whole because it connects to the internal conflict.
“...a giant hawk—come wailin up over the meadow…” In this line, the male hawk has come to defend his deceased mate, but despite his struggles he dies by Granddaddy’s hammer. “Then Granddaddy’s other hand flies up like a sudden and gentle bird, slaps down fast on top of the camera and lifts off
Johnson speaks of a Bohemian shepherd who listened in on a vulture’s tale: the vulture described to her children the dynamics of man, and how through their battling with each other they provide the vultures food. The vultures ponder why man is so self-destructive to a degree not shared by any other animal. The purpose of the piece
94-95) This statement from Darl shows us his perspective on the situation while he hints at the fact that the buzzards represent his mothers’ death. It also highlights the descriptiveness with which he observes various situations. Even though he lacks the ability to communicate with others very well, his
“The wind knocked completely out of me. I wasn't in any pain but tried to scream. Nothing came out. I looked at y hands- they were folded in upon my forearms. I tried to wiggle my fingers.
The following poems all teach readers the importance and significance of wildlife and the horrible treatment they too often receive from human beings. As everything becomes more modern, we can not help but stray farther away from nature. This increasingly insensitive attitude can have detrimental effects on the environment. Although the elements of poetry used in the following poems vary, Gail White’s “Dead Armadillos,” Walt McDonald’s “Coming Across It,” and Alden Nowlan’s “The Bull Moose,” all share one major conflict; our civilization 's problematic relationship to the wild.
The Grand Canyon is a remarkably interesting and beautiful place, as Walker Percy refers to in his essay “The Loss of Creature”. How can sightseers hold the same “value P” if they possess “the symbolic complex which has already been formed in the sightseer’s mind” (Percy1)? In his essay, Percy discusses his theory that humans aren’t getting the full value of life because they live off of preconceptions and expectations. Percy provides the reader with a number of examples to help illustrate his point in which he believes to be “The Loss of Creature”. The descriptions of the couple on vacation in Mexico and the difference between the Falkland Islander and the student at Scarsdale High School are two of his more interesting examples.
One of the aspects of “Wild Geese” that truly struck my fifth-grade self was its use of imagery—I was drawn in particular to the extensive visual imagery in lines 8-13 (“Meanwhile the sun…heading home again”) and awed by the ability of text to evoke images of such clarity. Moreover, in addition to the intrigue of its use of literary devices and the complexity of its recitation, interpreting “Wild Geese” and finding meaning within it was a process that continued well beyond the end of my fifth-grade year, and the connotations of that poem continue to resonate with me. While the entirety of this story is too personal to share herein, “Wild Geese” was a poem that spoke to me on a very personal level. As I sometimes have a tendency to hold myself to unrealistic standards, “Wild Geese” was to me a reminder of the relative insignificance of the trivial matters with which I would preoccupy myself; nature became a symbol of that which existed beyond my narrow fixations and the wild geese a reflection of the inexorable passage of time—in essence, a reminder that “this too shall
The poem uses sophisticated words to remind us of the hawk’s obvious intelligence, but also of his cockiness. He repeatedly talks about his vantage point and how it is an advantageous perspective. The hawk believes he is
Last summer I went on vacation to Puerto Rico with my cousins. We did really fun things like snorkeling, a boat ride, and eating at many wonderful places. Although all those sound really fun, I want to talk about the time I met the most cutest, most fluffiest, most friendliest, animal ever. It all started off on a breezy summer night while my cousins and family were chillin’ at our hotel pool.
Hawks are strong and independent birds so it makes sense for their need of control. As the hawk symbolizes freedom, a
Of all the places I’ve been, the location that makes me feel most at peace is Mackinac Island. I served there for ten days each summer for five years, and over the course of that time, I learned a lot about myself. The program I was in, the Mackinac Island Honor Scouts (MIHS) was a mostly scout-led program through Girl Scouts. I’m sure that the times I spent there are going to stay with me for the rest of my
Golden rays danced across the deep blue surface of the still water as the day awoke. A cascade of light enveloped the horizon, unveiling a bountiful array of colours. Fields of red roses serenaded the sky, while enormous willow trees, swayed in the light breeze, applauding its arrival. Perched precariously upon a thin branch stood a delicate wood pigeon. Without warning a loud crack echoed across the area and the pigeon fell to the mercy of gravity.