“Come on, little one,” Mother Deer whispered softly to Little Fawn. “We must move from here,” Little Fawn stood carefully on wobbly legs - she was still getting used to keeping her balance. But Mother Deer had never made her wander far yet. She sniffed the air as she took a step out of the thick, matted grass in which she had been laying, following cautiously after her mother.
“Don’t be afraid,” Mother Deer encouraged Little Fawn. “We are safe for now.” Little Fawn took a step into the long grasses willowing in the subtle breeze of the morning. Warm sunlight settled onto her back as she felt the long grass tickle her petite legs. The warm light streamed across the waving field of grass, the edges of the grass catching the morning light and sparkled in Little Fawn’s wide, wonder-filled eyes.
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Beads of the water settled on the eyelashes of little fawn, weighing them down and reflecting the amber color of her irises. As soon as the moment came, it ended. Little fawn had followed her mother out of the stream and through the forest once more, but they had came upon a dark scar of the landscape Little Fawn had come to love so dearly already. The forest, usually full of life, was silent; the only sound heard was the scraping of the leaves as they scattered across the dirt ground. All around little fawn was the skeleton of trees that were no more; their bark blackened and hardened, fallen across the forest floor, and ashes of the past floating in the air in the wind. “This, Little Fawn, is why we must be careful. The humans did this to our home, and if you ever see one, you must run immediately.” Mother deer remarked. “They will kill us, our home, our friends, and our earth. Nevertheless, our forest will continue to live and prosper, no matter what happens. I want you to remember this, Little
In the book, Original Instructions – Part One; Chief Lyons discusses “what happens to you and what happens to the earth happens to us as well,” (Nelson, 2008) referencing to the unethical practice and/or protection of Mother Nature. Chief Lyons emphasized that as Indigenous people, we must take a stand and advocate against atrocities occurring to Mother Nature by influencing the stakeholders and powerful leaders who have the ultimate responsibility to make a difference and who are influential to their followers. Our Indigenous ancestors have survived through unfortunate unethical treatment from the government that has impacted us through historical trauma; nonetheless our ancestors and indigenous people today have survived and conquered because
She had never before seen the meadow by moonlight. They lay serene and still, wrapped in thin veils of drifting mist. She found the path quite easily. … ‘Hannah dear,’ she said, struggling to control her panting breath. ‘Wake up! ‘Tis Kit.
It is a warm summer night and shades of orange, red, and gold appear in the sky over the pine-covered hills. The sun soon disappears beneath the dark hills and darkness settles over the land. The buffalo, antelope, and elk find places to rest for the night and all is quiet except for the creeks and birds. In several hours, the sky will again be lit with a multitude of colors and the animals will begin to rise. A new day will begin in the Black Hills, just like it did hundreds of years ago.
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.
With human advancement, technology has taken on a life of its own. The current American society’s reliance on digital support has caused it to forget the importance of its humanity. The novelist, Wallace Stegner, wrote in a letter to argue for the preservation of the wilderness in order to help restore the spirituality and historical values of America, which he sent to David E. Pesonen, a research assistant for the Wildland Research Center at the University of California. His claim relays that the remaining wilderness needs to be preserved as much as possible because American society needs to remember and appreciate its ancestral roots. While he used primarily pathos as his method of persuasion, his argument lacks factual information and mentions minimal credibility.
I arrived at Aunt Rachel’s house for my first summer at Maycomb. When I first arrived, Aunt Rachel was very glad to see me. We ate dinner and then Aunt Rachel forced me to retreat to bed. Early the next morning I got dressed and ate breakfast until my stomach was satisfied with the meal. I went outside to relax in Aunt Rachel’s collard patch.
The land is natural and fully grown in emphasizing that setting is integral to the rest of the story. Using setting as a strong foundation for the trajectory of the story, the author seeds the themes of Ignorance and neediness, but also love. A small path winds through this forest giving Ms. Phoenix Jackson a place
It starts with the mother coming and checking on Claudia from the fall. The children argue on what has just happened and if she was pushed or if she slipped. As Edith Hampton, the mother, continues to check on Claudia; both of the children are quarreling back and forth on the ammonites. The author states “…her offspring whose emotions seem the loudest sound on the beach” it shows that the children care about their fossils more than the people that are surrounding the children. The children emotions are on the fossils and not about Claudia condition from the fall.
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.
“I Was Sleeping Where the Black Oaks Move” written by Louise Erdrich focuses on a child and a grandfather horrifically observing a flood consuming their entire village and the surrounding trees, obliterating the nests of the herons that had lived there. In the future they remember back to the day when they started cleaning up after the flood, when they notice the herons without their habitat “dancing” in the sky. According to the poet’s biographical context, many of the poems the poet had wrote themselves were a metaphor. There could be many viable explanations and themes to this fascinating poem, and the main literary devices that constitute this poem are imagery, personification, and a metaphor.
The agony the writer is feeling about his son 's death, as well as the hint of optimism through planting the tree is powerfully depicted through the devices of diction and imagery throughout the poem. In the first stanza the speaker describes the setting when planting the Sequoia; “Rain blacked the horizon, but cold winds kept it over the Pacific, / And the sky above us stayed the dull gray.” The speaker uses a lexicon of words such as “blackened”, “cold” and “dull gray” which all introduce a harsh and sorrowful tone to the poem. Pathetic fallacy is also used through the imagery of nature;
“The girl was running. Running for her life, in the hope of finding a safe haven for her and her family. She never looks back, the only indication her father was still behind her was his ragged breathing above her head, forming puffs of air in this cold morning. She suddenly stumbles on a root, but her mother secures her fall with a small wisp of air. They lock hands, all three of them, and continue pushing themselves, desperately trying to find the others they lost on the way.
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
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.
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.