Imagine waking up to the cooling breeze of the ocean, hearing waves gently crash against the rocks, and picture only being just hundreds of feet away. This is how I wake up every morning in Shelter Cove. Shelter Cove is a secluded coastal paradise in Northern California where relaxation and tranquility reign free. To the West, the magnificent Pacific Ocean, and to the East, I grasp the power and grace of the Redwood Forest. I always adore being there and experiencing the beauty and free spiritedness through the adventures my family and I venture in. No matter what time, morning, noon, or evening, there are always experiences to be had. Mornings are always my favorite because the splendor of God’s creations roam free without a worry in the world. Every morning I wake up and run to the giant rectangular window covered with …show more content…
Making my way down the side of the house, I climb over and around the never ending rugged and giant rocks on which the house is built on. As I carefully walk closer to the water, I feel the power of the water as the wind from the waves blow through my being like a breath from God. Looking down, all around me are numerous tide pools filled with various seal life such as sea urchins, anemones, star fish, and even different kinds of fish. The excitement of picking up a star fish, feeling the billions of tentacles latching on to my skin, is a memory I can never forget. After I have my fair share of climbing the rocks, my family and I walk around the close-knit community. Along the streets there is foliage abound, and in that are blackberry bushes. We always pick them and savor their sweet flavor, but do not appreciate the red stains on our hands and fingers. Along the way, we spot additional deer hiding in the brush or roaming the open grass. We head back to the house as the sun begins to set, glistening over the water as the sky turns red and
uncovers the truth about the fish, and how it and its environment was abused by the old
In this poem Mark O’Connor closely observes turtles hatching and contemplates the ritual that turtles share with the beach. This poem also has close connotations to life cycle and family.
I woke up early in the morning with pure excitement. Today, I was heading to Cedar Point with my long time close friend, Sarah. The sun was shining, it was the perfect mood to go to an amusement park. My mom and I drove through the flat cornfields of Ohio, to her farmhouse. Once I picked up Sarah, we were headed to America’s Rockin’ Roller-Coast also known as Cedar Point. Cedar Point is on a peninsula surrounded by the fresh waters of Lake Erie located . It's actually quite nice, if you don't include the often high winds which often force the employees to close the rides due to the high risk of liability and the frequent nats. The Dragster is sitting smack dab in the middle of the park's midway. The height makes the dragster something that you can’t miss, especially on the causeway.
The water was calm, like the morning; both were starting to get ready for the day ahead. The silent water signals that although rough times occurred previously, the new day was a new start for the world. As I went closer to the water, I heard the subtle lapping of the water against the small rocks on the shore. Every sign of nature signals a change in life; no matter how slight, a change is significant. We can learn a lot from nature: whatever happens in the natural world, change comes and starts a new occurrence. I gazed over the water to where the sky met the sea. The body of water seemed to be endless under the clear blue sky. The scope of nature shows endless possibilities. Nature impresses us with the brilliant colors of the sky, the leaves, the water. She keeps us all in our places and warns us when we are careless with her. After all the leaves have fallen from the trees, she will offer us the first snows of the year to coat the earth with a tranquil covering. That will only be after we have recognized the lessons of autumn, the gradual change from warm to cold, rain to snow, summer to winter.
Two poems, “The Fish” by Elizabeth Bishop and “The Meadow Mouse” by Theodore Roethke, include characters who experience, learn, and emote with nature. In Elizabeth Bishop’s poem “The Fish,” a fisherman catches a fish, likely with the intention to kill it, but frees it when he sees the world through the eyes of the fish. In Theodore Roethke’s poem “The Meadow Mouse,” a man finds a meadow mouse with the intention of keeping it and shielding it from nature, but it escapes into the wild. These poems, set in different scenarios, highlight two scenarios where men and women interact with nature and experience it in their own ways.
Every summer my family and I go to our house in the cape just north of Boston. One hot summer morning, I was leaving the house to meet my family at the beach, suddenly I remembered my mother asked me to pick up a jar of “Kingfish Herring” for her and her friend to snack on at the beach.
Thus every beauty, holy, great thing and fine are often combined with the image of the sun or morning. The morning hour is the time that men spent their valuable life or the time of the creating. Therefore, it seems that his house has such a holy image, gives him tranquility and purifies him. His house becomes the starting point of searching for the dignity.
Jim is an innocent young man, living on the coast of Queensland. In this peaceful town, everybody is happy and at peace with themselves and with nature. The people enjoy the simple pleasures of life - nature, birds, and friendly neighbourly conversations. Their days are filled with peaceful walks in the bush, bird watching and fishing. Jim and his friends especially enjoy the serenity of the sanctuary and the wonders of nature that it holds.
When you get up each morning and look outside your window looking out at the beautiful
Standing on the balcony, I gazed at the darkened and starry sky above. Silence surrounded me as I took a glimpse at the deserted park before me. Memories bombarded my mind. As a young girl, the park was my favourite place to go. One cold winter’s night just like tonight as I looked upon the dark sky, I had decided to go for a walk. Wrapped up in my elegant scarlet red winter coat with gleaming black buttons descending down the front keeping away the winter chill. Wearing thick leggings as black as coal, leather boots lined with fur which kept my feet cozy.
Sitting in the back seat between two towering piles of clothes and snacks we drive up the abandoned streets of Adell. I see vast open fields of corn and dense wooded forest filled with life, along with the occasional, towering grain house. We pull into a dry, dusty, driveway of rock and thriving, overgrown weeds. We come up to an aged log cabin with a massive crab apple tree with its sharp thorns like claws. The ancient weeping willow provides, with is huge sagging arms, shade from the intense rays of the sun. Near the back of the house there is a rotten, wobbly dock slowly rotting in the dark blue, cool water. Near that we store our old rusted canoes, to which the desperate frogs hop for shelter. When I venture out to the water I feel the thick gooey mud squish through my toes and the fish mindlessly try to escape but instead swim into my legs. On the lively river banks I see great blue herring and there attempt to catch a fish for their dinner. They gracefully fly with their beautiful wings arching in the sun to silvery points.
I trudge through the hot and humid weather, towards a herd of elephants in an attempt to get the perfect photo. I feel my clothes cling to my body, damp from the sweat and mud of a hot summer day. The water is cool, but thick layers of wet earth have caked onto my clothes, making them heavy and wet. The sun shines brightly in my eyes, making it difficult to see clearly. I squint, but the light only seems to shine more, reflecting off of the water and lighting up the entire area.
The great city of Anchorage calls my name, in the radiant crystal flakes of snow delitcaley making its way down to Alaska to seek refuge on the ground. The city of my birth calls my name to roam around in the beautiful white snow. The description of Anchorage, Alaska can be seen all in a picture long ago a picture of a four year old girl smiling not having a clue in the world that she would no longer be apart of the glorious snow glistening near her shuffle. All the way to McAllen,Texas where thirteen years later has a ticket in her hand and books a plane straight to Anchorage, Alaska.
The visual surrounding the lake was perceived before the mountains was beautiful and serene. The lavender flowers near the water mirroring the colossal mountains smelled of spring. The sunset illuminated the sky making it purple and orange. The huge rocks were faultless and could be used for sitting and thinking. The warm breeze reassured that springtime was near. The lake was ideal for swimming, it was so clear. The cabins around the lake were perfect for summertime with family and friends. The clouds looked impeccable as they were angled over the mountains, their rectangular shapes resembled fluffy pillows. The snow had almost completely melted off the mountain in the distance. The environment was well needed for break within a busy life.
In the early summer mornings, when the sunshine is young and playful, inside the church another realm is born. Sitting in the back rows one can see a heavenly mist flowing though the windows and filling the sleepy altar with life and hope. It is a different dimension in the breast of an unsuspecting world. Moments such as these bring you joy and reassurance and also show you that there really is someone out there: your soul is elevated, your mind is thirsty for new experiences and your body is strengthened.