There is a serene moment when reading John Muir “A Windstorm in the forests,” that rushed through me. Which can only be described as a rush of emotions that one might face when returning home after traveling for so long. I feel that this response is so far harder to write than I could have imagined it to be because the forest Muir is describing within his story, within the Sierra Nevada is one that I grew up with. The same ones that I spent my summers and winter breaks at, I feel a slight struggle when trying to describe my response because I didn’t realize how much I miss all of that and how many of my memories are surrounded by that forest. Reading Muir story brought back the images of seeing stretches of land covered in an endless amount
Krakauer also adored what nature had in store for his yearning for intriguing natural events. In is youth, he “devoted most of [his] waking hours to fantasizing about, and then undertaking, ascents of remote mounts in Alaska and Canada” (134). Shown by the time he spent dreaming, people can infer him as a person who deeply admires nature. At the age of eighteen, Ruess dreamed of living in the wilderness for the sake of fascination. He wandered to find events that could surprise him until his near death, in which he decided to find the more ...
While describing his climb, Krakauer exhibits his ambivalent feelings towards his voyage through the descriptions of a fearsome yet marvelous landscape, fragility versus confidence, and uncertainty about personal relationships.
In the essay “The Calypso Borealis,” John Muir used imagery and personification to describe his journey within nature to find a flower. Muir shares the deep bond he has with nature when writing about his experience with the Calypso, and the great lengths he went through to find it. As Muir was describing his journey, he used words such as “bewildering” and “discouraging” to show the hardships he faced. Once he had found the Calypso, he wrote that he “cried for joy” to show just how much happiness it brought to him. These words and phrases allow the reader to grasp that even though he faced so many problems and setbacks, it was worth it to find the “rarest and most beautiful of the flowering plants.” In paragraph 4, Muir describes the difference
The drive to cross the Kentucky border had taken hours and hours of strenuous patience to finally arrive in another state. The view was by far country like as hints of cow manure could be smelled far from a distance. We drive through small towns, half the size of our hometown of Glen Ellyn had been the biggest town we've seen if not smaller. The scenery had overwhelmed us, as lumps of Earth from a great distance turned to perfectly molded hills, but as we got closer and closer to our destination the hills no longer were hills anymore, instead the hills had transformed to massive mountains of various sizes. These mountains surrounded our every view as if we had sunken into a great big deep hole of green pastures. Our path of direction was seen, as the trails of our road that had followed for numerous hours ended up winding up the mountainous mountains in a corkscrew dizzy-like matter.
The book Into The Wild, written by Jon Krakauer, tells the story of Chris McCandless a young man who abandoned his life in search of something more meaningful than a materialistic society. In 1992 Chris gave his $ 25,000 savings to charity, abandoned his car and most of his possessions, and burned all of his money to chase his dream. Chris’s legacy was to live in simplicity, to find his purpose, and to chase his dreams. Chris McCandless’s decision to uproot his life and hitchhike to Alaska has encouraged other young adults to chase their dreams. Neal Karlinksy illustrates the love Chris had for nature in the passage, “He was intoxicated by the nature and the idea of a great Alasican adventure-to survive in the bush totally alone.”
When thinking about nature, Hans Christian Andersen wrote, “Just living is not enough... one must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower.” John Muir and William Wordsworth both expressed through their writings that nature brought them great joy and satisfaction, as it did Andersen. Each author’s text conveyed very similar messages and represented similar experiences but, the writing style and wording used were significantly different. Wordsworth and Muir express their positive and emotional relationships with nature using diction and imagery.
As I read John Muir’s “A Wind Storm in The Forest”, I come to realize how passionate the author is pertaining to wind and nature. He uses descriptive language to bring out the full beauty of the winds. For example John Muir states in his narrative “A Wind Storm in The Forest” that “After one has seen pines six feet in diameter bending like grasses before a mountain gale, and ever and anon some giant falling” (526). The author gives winds the quality which no human could ever possibly obtain, and that is sheer power. However the author also describes the winds as always not beastly, but rather sometimes gentle and calm. John Muir wants the readers to understand that wind is has its many beauty’s and miracles; you just have to be willing to look
The forces of nature not only shape the world around us, they also wriggle into our minds. In their essays, Brush Fire and The Santa Ana Winds, Didion and Thomas describe the indomitable power of the Santa Ana phenomenon, a time when warm dry winds breathe flame into the hills surrounding the city of angels. Much like certain chaparral of the southern California Hills the texts spring from the same root - both texts speak to the immeasurable and awesome power of this meteorological event, sharing similarities in vivid diction and, at times, imagery. In spite of these surface level parallels, however, these two texts branch off away from each other when it comes to the purpose, tone, syntax - both authors have vastly different messages to
Love has the power to do anything. Love can heal and love can hurt. Love is something that is indescribable and difficult to understand. Love is a feeling that cannot be accurately expressed by a word. In the poem “The Rain” by Robert Creeley, the experience of love is painted and explored through a metaphor. The speaker in the poem compares love to rain and he explains how he wants love to be like rain. Love is a beautiful concept and through the abstract comparison to rain a person is assisted in developing a concrete understanding of what love is. True beauty is illuminated by true love and vice versa. In other words, the beauty of love and all that it entails is something true.
In Walden, Henry David Thoreau explains how a relationship with nature reveals aspects of the true self that remain hidden by the distractions of society and technology. To Thoreau, the burdens of nineteenth century existence, the cycles of exhausting work to obtain property, force society to exist as if it were "slumbering." Therefore, Thoreau urges his readers to seek a spiritual awakening. Through his rhetoric,Thoreau alludes to a "rebirth" of the self and a reconnection to the natural world. The text becomes a landscape and the images become objects, appealing to our pathos, or emotions, our ethos, or character, and our logos, or logical reasoning, because we experience his awakening. Thoreau grounds his spirituality in the physical realities of nature, and allows us to experience our own awakening through his metaphorical interpretations. As we observe Thoreau¹s awakening, he covertly leads us to our own enlightenment.
John Muir has a very interesting take on the natural world and how we should live with regard to it. In "A Windstorm in The Forests" he uses immense imagery for the trees and the cliff sides. Muir wants you to visualize what he sees and hears. The way he describes the colors of the trees and how they bow and bend in the wind gives you a vivid image in your mind. Harmonious sounds of the leaves in the wind, gives us a faint whispering in our ear of the song he hears. This essay in particular blew me away.
In doing this assignment, I was looking forward to becoming more appreciative of nature, and all that it has to offer us, wanting a better understanding of it all. It seems that we take all of the beauty of our earth for granted, we are spoiled and it shows. In completing this practicum, I hoped to return to a state of mind where everything I see has beauty in it, like a baby seeing things for the first time, when everything is so fascinating, that touching it in complete awe is all I want to do.
We slowly crept around the corner, finally sneaking a peek at our cabin. As I hopped out of the front seat of the truck, a sharp sense of loneliness came over me. I looked around and saw nothing but the leaves on the trees glittering from the constant blowing wind. Catching myself standing staring around me at all the beautiful trees, I noticed that the trees have not changed at all, but still stand tall and as close as usual. I realized that the trees surrounding the cabin are similar to the being of my family: the feelings of never being parted when were all together staying at our cabin.
This area of the world is so foreign to my Oklahoma life; it infuses me with awe, and with an eerie feeling of being strongly enclosed by huge mountains, and the mass of tall trees. However, when my foot first steps onto the dusty trail it feels crazily magical. The clean, crisp air, the new smell of evergreen trees and freshly fallen rain is mixed with fragrances I can only guess at. It is like the world has just taken a steroid of enchantment! I take it all in, and embrace this new place before it leaves like a dream and reality robs the moment. As I turn and look at my family, I was caught by my reflection in their impressions. The hair raising mischief in the car was forgotten and now it was time to be caught up in this newness of life. It was as if the whole world around us had changed and everyone was ready to engulf themselves in it. The trickling of water somewhere in the distance and the faint noise of animals all brought the mountains to
The sunset was not spectacular that day. The vivid ruby and tangerine streaks that so often caressed the blue brow of the sky were sleeping, hidden behind the heavy mists. There are some days when the sunlight seems to dance, to weave and frolic with tongues of fire between the blades of grass. Not on that day. That evening, the yellow light was sickly. It diffused softly through the gray curtains with a shrouded light that just failed to illuminate. High up in the treetops, the leaves swayed, but on the ground, the grass was silent, limp and unmoving. The sun set and the earth waited.