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Environmental impact assessment essay
Interactions of culture on the changing conditions of the environment
Environmental impact assessment essay
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In the warm summer evening, she sits on a rough, ginormous boulder with a small human figure in her arms. Her black jeans and black shoes rubbed against the flat, tan boulder that is as big as the world leaving a red stained mark on her pants. She feels like everything around her is small and quiet as if she is on top of the galaxy. Her adrenaline shoots up, while having the thought of falling off the boulder with her slippery, long shoes. Her hands are sweaty from holding a fragile, baby boy tight in her arms against her body. He constantly moves with wiggles of soft clothes touching her arms and gathering the warm sensation of butterfly kisses. Her turquoise stone necklace matching her earrings sparkle as the sunlight bounces off it. Her black shirt wrinkled and sleeveless rub on her body making it itch. Her long, fine hair blowing in the cool breeze as if there is a fan blowing straight in her face. The gaze of both living bodies look into the distance of red, brown rock structures. The breeze has gone a little cooler. The rocks warming as they sat …show more content…
Clouds like cotton candy shift above the arches as if they look like eyes watching over the ruffled sheets of red clay. Many shapes and sizes of the white billow come to life as it moves across the bright blue sky, shadowing and cooling the red clay that are in the midst of the reddened surface. The light blue colors in the atmosphere comes out, as the white clouds shifts away, as if the sky looked like a sea full of waves. Glossy, black, winged crows roam the sky with eyes everywhere protecting the lands from high above. Their shadows following them across the flat Sandy plateau. Blue and yellow birds walking on the buttes with their miniature feet. Feathers falling from the birds on top of the buttes, down to the ground, getting covered by the red sands. Chirping and singing as the birds fly high in the
By noon they had begun to climb toward the gap in the mountains. Riding up through the lavender or soapweed, under the Animas peaks. The shadow of an eagle that had set forth from the line of riders below and they looked up to mark it where it rode in that brittle blue and faultless void. In the evening they came out to upon a mesa that overlooked all the country to the north... The crumpled butcher paper mountains lay in sharp shadowfold under the long blue dusk and in the middle distance the glazed bed of a dry lake lay shimmering like the mare imbrium. (168)
On the bank of the water, the lifeless trees swayed heavily in the enduring winds. Clouds could be seen not far off in the north, reclaiming the sky rapidly. The mood was changing swiftly as dusk descended dashingly on the hills of the Gabilan Mountains.
From the piece of artwork “Rain at the Auvers”. I can see roofs of houses that are tucked into a valley, trees hiding the town, black birds, clouds upon the horizon, hills, vegetation, a dark stormy sky and rain.
He ran his soft hands over my lower back and moved them down to caress my legs, this sending movement through my upper calves. Being so close to him was ticklish, yet pleasurable… Evolving me to wince at every touch. The pleasurable side almost always overcomes the tingling ticklish side of being in the arms of someone I cared about so much. Just the thought of him- the way his smile lit up his whole face, and how he only smiled that way around me. We spent a lot of time squandering about, but every moment afterwards left you wanting more. When I wasn’t with him, my mind traveled to him. The thought of being surprised that his feelings were mutual had always stuck out. All of his charisma, and quirkiness piled together to make him. Being himself,
As the first rays of the sun peak over the horizon, penetrating the dark, soft light illuminates the mist rising up from the ground, forming an eerie, almost surreal landscape. The ground sparkles, wet with dew, and while walking from the truck to the barn, my riding boots soak it in. The crickets still chirp, only slower now. They know that daytime fast approaches. Sounds, the soft rustling of hooves, a snort, and from far down the aisle a sharp whinny that begs for breakfast, inform me that the crickets are not the only ones preparing for the day.
Majestic mountains muted in the background, have linear and organic lines pointing to the sky. While muted, these forms contain value, and a sense of texture. This carries to the blue organic lines of the sky. The soft white camouflaging the starkness of the mountains give me a perception of God’s involvement in nature as it rises to the calming of the blue. Blue is a peaceful color of heaven.
Towering, majestic, emerald-green palm trees build a canopy over your head, shadowing anything underneath them. With the sound of seagulls calling each other as they soar gracefully above and the smell of salt on the hot, humid breeze, you have reached your way to Siesta Cove. This unique neighborhood is known for its luxurious homes, stunning scenery, and a variety of recreation and leisure activities.
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.
I awoke after a long night of storms and choppy waters, and all that was just to live in Maine. Though when I neared the coast I saw an unfamiliar color of water. It was royal blue and not a deep soft blue like in my home, and even after that I was sure about one thing which is work. I am not sure of how the mainlanders think of a North Carolinian though I kept my hopes up. I was sure it would be hard work to make a living and settle down though I have a plan. The only thing I don’t have a plan for is a supposedly savage native that will change my whole life forever.
Closer and closer to the calm water, I began sinking deeper in the sand. It was comforting, the silence, tranquility, and warmth of the faint sun. There is a slight breeze, warm, but cold and lonely. I could smell the scent of fish blowing through my hair and body. The sun was still fading, slowly but surely the day was almost over. About half of it is gone now. I could see shades of blue, red, purple, and pinkish-yellow. They were mixed with puffy clouds that lined the beginning of the sky and the end of the water. I noticed the darker shades on the bottom of the lower clouds.
The ranch was noiseless and still with the morning, the countryside was so closely grassed over, it seems to be painted green and flicked with dew. The morning breeze tickled the trees and made them dance until there was another warm, humming quietness. Hidden within the grass crickets sang in harmony as the grass swayed in the breeze. All the trees were spread out reaching toward the blazing sun trying to grasp all the warmth.
As I lay on the minute golden grains of sand, I looked up at the brilliant sky, adorned with flashes of pink and orange and purple, mirroring the colours of a flawless seasoned apricot. The goddess-like sun’s face is being embraced by the demure navy fingertips of the skyline.
An occasion I was envious Striking weak rays caressed my skin as I egotistically strode through the wealthy district. My chestnut brown ringlets undulated before crashing down on the fleecy stitches of my sweater. Negligently I propelled the inky wrought iron gate; chattering gravel pricked at my ears simultaneously I trudged along the narrow ribbon of nonconsolidated rock segments which followed across the avocado smudge, habitat to heavenly sugar pink roses. One exquisite rose in particular, she stands boastful a precious distinctive ruby blood drop, but her irresistible beauty was deceiving, as she possesses a fortress of noxious thorns as sharp as the finest blades.
I do not doubt that he thinks this place is just as breathtaking as I do. His hair is the colour of the caramel bark holding up the trees that encircle us. Although, unlike the trees, his hair curls and bounces around his ears, bringing him to life in a way that most boys could not pull off but it seems to come naturally to him. His knees now folded into his chest as his face, full of remarkable strong features, rest upon them in a lopsided fashion, eyes now closed. His hands clutched around his legs, fingers and veins like a piece of art, each perfectly positioned.
I use any excuse to walk along the ocean, especially alone and without my phone. The wind blew cold air, but the sun’s warm rays kept my body at a perfect temperature. It was three in the afternoon and I was calm.