The weather was just beginning to turn cold. Gray fog hung in the air, making everything look extra enigmatic. The fog rested in the sky, giving away the sight of infinite rows of evergreen trees. My morning started off as any other weekend morning. It was 8 o'clock and as a result of leaving my window open all night, the room was filled to the brim with cold piercing air causing me to be far too cold to just lay there or attempt to fall back into sleep. Therefore,as usual, I slipped outside to take a walk. I always cherished these mornings because I felt alone. In these streets, that in just a few hours would be crawling with little monsters playing street basketball and big monsters mowing their lawns, I was alone. Alone until this very Saturday. …show more content…
I was alone until I had made it a block over, where I usually turned around to walk back. the monsters started to wake up around this time and I never want to be around for that. A young child looking to be about the age of six started to appear through the thick fog. She looked to be wearing long sleeved pink pajamas with white polka-dots, her fine golden brown hair tangled with knots was hanging in front of her face, causing her to occasionally sweep her hand across her forehead to keep the hair out of her eyes. Her beauty was both captivating and delicate. As she got closer I made out two big blue eyes pleading with worry. I swiftly glanced around for anyone who could be responsible for this little girl. I began to jog to her through worry that she was lost or hurt. When I reached her she took my hand and began tugging on it hastily. She was evidently strong despite her small figure because I began to follow her. I glanced down at her tangled hair and asked, “Are you alright?” She did not answer, but only replied with more forceful tugging on my hand. I repeated the question with still no answer. I looked down the road as the sidewalk began to disappear, we crossed the rows of suburb homes, transforming into rows of seemingly endless evergreen trees. The chill autumn morning was altered by the warm sun beginning to rise. I was now freely following this strange little girl with no struggle and although she no longer forced me in any direction, she grasped my hand with vigor and desperation. Seeing that the road had been harshly tearing at her tenuous slippers I offered to carry her. She did not decline, but turned abruptly and gave me a look of annoyance of my abundance of questions. The little girl brought her hands to to her throat and shook her head no. I concluded that she must be mute. I only nodded my head in clarification of the situation. “Well alright then, just answer me this, are you alright?” I asked, concerned. She pointed at herself and nodded her head yes. Then she brought her finger to the direction of the trees and shook her head no. Consoled that she was okay I nodded my head, clutched her hand and we took the first step into those never ending trees. We had only been wandering for a few minutes, but still I looked back many times to make sure we would be able to find our way home.
the nameless girl lead me by hand with complete confidence of the destination. Although I should be worried her look of determination assured me of the importance of what she was leading me to. The sun began to peek through the trees telling me that I should be home right now. The peaceful morning had faded morphing into day. The voiceless girl stopped brusquely. Relieved, I stood beside her examining the forest around us. Pine needles covered the ground removing sight of any dirt beneath them. The trees rested high above our heads shading us from the sun. Scrub oak bushes sprouted from the earth in every direction. The little girl's eyes darted from tree to tree begging them to reveal something to her. I searched with her, seeking the sight of some urgent emergency. Her eyes caught sight of what they had been looking for and she rushed over to a small pine tree ran to the backside, and motioned with both hands for me to come quickly. I cautiously walked to the back of the tree and a petite gray bird with a white belly. It small black eyes were slightly closed, and although he was not moving his shallow quick breath indicated he was still alive. The unfortunate creature’s neck was logged in the space between the branch of the tree and the trees side leaving him trapped. A minor amount of blood streamed down the side of the tree trickling down to the pine needles resting on the ground. The anxious eyes of the little girl beside me returned to me searching for guidance. I opened my mouth to speak, but shut it again with pure befuddlement. I looked at this little girl and her beseeching eyes feeling my heart break because I truly did not know what to
do. A few minutes of attempts to find the source of the bleeding passed and I decided to make an effort to save the wounded animal. The little girl, pleased that I had chosen to do something other than make her even more nervous watched my every move. I bashfully removed my shirt and formed it into a bowl like shape. I neared the tree and aimed to prepare myself for the fear that the bird would suddenly come out of shock attacking me. I slid the towel under the bird sliding it up until it reached its neck. Much to my ease the bird did not attack me. Instead it relaxed into my shirt, appreciating the change from the rough bark to my workout shirt. Securing the bird’s neck in my shirt I slowly attempted to slide the animal out of the position between the tree and branch. To it’s luck it only took a few light tugs to free it. The bird still did not move, its feet laid in the air and its stomach rapidly moved up and down in anxiety. Over my shoulder the face of the little girl appeared examining my tactics closely. She looked less worried now with a look of curiosity on her face. I moved my shirt from under the bird’s neck and torn a thin piece off. Placing the shirt back under its neck I tied the strip loosely around its neck and held my finger over the source of the bleeding. I sighed hoping that the worst part was over. Saving an organism's life, it turns out, was quite stressful.
In the trees the birds stopped singing, and gradually quietened down until silence had completely fallen over the hills. They sat in their nests, motionless, like small figures, lifeless. All could be heard was the wind, and the occasional tumble of leaves onto the rocky surface beneath.
Underneath a tree bearing the word “CROATOAN” sat a young girl. Her eyes were like waterfalls as tears cascaded down her raggad cheeks, landing on the cold ground beneath her.
Sarah Orne Jewett’s story “A White Heron” tells of a young girl named Sylvia who lives with her grandmother in a rural area because she is “afraid of folks” (1598). She encountered a hunter one day when she was guiding her milking cow home. The hunter is an ornithologist who is seeking for a rare bird: a white heron. This gave Sylvia’s heart “a wild beat (1600)” because she knew of the rare bird. The hunter offered Sylvia and her grandmother ten dollars if they could aid him in finding the location of the bird. Forgetting about sleep, Sylvia was determined on finding this bird for the hunter and thought of a pine-tree that was the last of its generation. She believed climbing this great pine-tree will help her locate the white heron and please the hunter’s desire of finding the rare bird. Sylvia’s journey up the tree is significant in Sarah Orne Jewett’s story “A White Heron” because it shows that she is generous, one with nature, and the reader gets to understand Sylvia’s point of view.
She went into the lake for a swim and suddenly, a tail appeared where her feet had been. She was terrified, so she made sure that no one was looking and dragged herself onto the dry sand of the shore. As soon as she dried off, her feet reappeared, replacing the tail. She didn’t know what was happening to her, so she ran to the library to do some research. She looked for hours on end and suddenly found a book on mythological creatures. Before she could open it, a “gust” of wind from an open window blew the book open and the first picture she saw was of a Selkie. She recognized the tail immediately, for it was the same tail that she had not long before. She knew she must keep this a secret, for she thought that her parents would not love her anymore. What she did not know, was that they already knew about her
The dew covered forest floor oozes itself between my toes as I try to absorb every ravishing detail of the forest. The rising sun sets its glowing array of color on the rims of the moss-cloaked figures in front of me and the birds warble high above in the crowed of trees to generate a beautiful melody for the atmosphere. Drawing in a deep breath, I analyze each scent, aroma and fragrance of the woods I’ve encircled myself in, each odor bringing me into a more engrossed tranquility. It’s times like these that I long for my unborn inner wolf so I can connect with nature on a closer level.
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.
All of the sudden the sickness she had been working so hard to control finally rose up. She was overwhelmed by dizziness and rushed out into the dark hall, leaning against a wall. Heart pounding, breath heavy, she felt a tingling in her fingers again. This time, she was out the door sliding on the slippery lawns before she changed and she returned to the small grove of trees at the bottom of the lawn, cold from the ground dimming her fever. She lifted her head slightly to look back at the house, dominating the dark skyline.
While Ella was a human, she never understood humans for they are so unpredictable and can break your heart. It was too late now, she reached the top and climbed inside. There was nobody, not even a sound. She observed every inch of the tree house, she was destined to find what led her there, it was destiny. She then spotted two pennies on a small table but she did not see a note or anything revealing a human presence, just a couple of ordinary caterpillars. Ella picked both of them up and let them crawl around on her fingers for a while. The sun started to set and as she whispered to the caterpillars that she would be back tomorrow “she knew it was time to send them back. The caterpillars wiggled in her hand, spelling out “goodbye.”” Ellas mouth dropped wide open. It all made sense in Ella’s extraordinary little mind that the caterpillars were leaving her the pennies, but for what
We all remember these grey gloomy days filled with a feeling of despair that saddens the heart from top to bottom. Even though, there may be joy in one’s heart, the atmosphere turns the soul cold and inert. Autumn is the nest of this particular type of days despite its hidden beauty. The sun seems foreign, and the nights are darker than usual enveloped by a thrill that generates chills to travel through the spine leaving you with a feeling of insecurity. Nevertheless, the thinnest of light will always shine through the deepest darkness; in fact, darkness amplifies the beauty and intensity of a sparkle. There I found myself trapped within the four walls of my house, all alone, surrounded by the viscosity of this type of day. I could hear some horrifying voices going through my mind led by unappealing suicidal thought. Boredom had me encaged, completely at its mercy. I needed to go far away, and escape from this morbid house which was wearing me down to the grave. Hope was purely what I was seeking in the middle of the city. Outside, the air was heavy. No beautifully rounded clouds, nor sunrays where available to be admired through the thick grey coat formed by the mist embedded in the streets. Though, I felt quite relieved to notice that I was not alone to feel that emptiness inside myself as I was trying to engage merchant who shown similar “symptoms” of my condition. The atmosphere definitely had a contagious effect spreading through the hearts of every pedestrian that day. Very quickly, what seemed to be comforting me at first, turned out to be deepening me in solitude. In the city park, walking ahead of me, I saw a little boy who had long hair attached with a black bandana.
Walking, there is no end in sight: stranded on a narrow country road for all eternity. It is almost dark now. The clouds having moved in secretively. When did that happen? I am so far away from all that is familiar. The trees are groaning against the wind’s fury: when did the wind start blowing? Have I been walking for so long that time hysterically slipped away! The leaves are rustling about swirling through the air like discarded post-it notes smashing, slapping against the trees and blacktop, “splat-snap”. Where did the sun go? It gave the impression only an instant ago, or had it been longer; that it was going to be a still and peaceful sunny day; has panic from hunger and walking so long finally crept in? Waking up this morning, had I been warned of the impending day, the highs and lows that I would soon face, and the unexpected twist of fate that awaited me, I would have stayed in bed.
" I was seeing shadow monsters everywhere; my imagination bringing them to life. Where are my parents, I thought? Why did they leave me out here all alone? Who leaves a six- year- old child alone in the park to fend for himself in the dark hours of the night?
With stress on my mind and a cookie in my hand, I headed towards the wooded area behind her home. At the beginning of the trail, there was an old rotting tire swing barely hanging onto a low-hanging branch. The extensive amount of muddy puddles and the surrounding damp grass made me hesitant to follow through with my grandmother’s suggestion; the mountain of homework that waited for me back at home convinced me to continue. Trees towered over me, adding to the existing weight of stress that sat upon my shoulders, as I carefully maneuvered around the biggest puddles, beginning to become frustrated. Today was a terrible day to go for a walk, so why would my grandmother suggest this? Shaking my head in frustration, I pushed forward. The trail was slightly overgrown. Sharp weeds stabbed my sides every few steps, and I nearly tripped over a fallen tree branch. As the creek barely came into view, I could feel the humidity making my hair curly and stick to the sides of my face. After stopping to roll up the ends of my worn blue jeans, I neared the end of the trail. Bright sunlight peeked through the branches and reflected off the water. The sun must have come out from behind a cloud, seeing as it now blinded me as I neared the water. A few minutes passed by before I could clearly see
I looked up at the black sky. I hadn't intended to be out this late. The sun had set, and the empty road ahead had no streetlights. I knew I was in for a dark journey home. I had decided that by traveling through the forest would be the quickest way home. Minutes passed, yet it seemed like hours and days. The farther I traveled into the forest, the darker it seemed to get. I was very had to even take a breath due to the stifling air. The only sound familiar to me was the quickening beat of my own heart, which felt as though it was about to come through my chest. I began to whistled to take my mind off the eerie noises I was hearing. In this kind of darkness I was in, it was hard for me to believe that I could be seeing these long finger shaped shadows that stretched out to me. I had this gut feeling as though something was following me, but I assured myself that I was the only one in the forest. At least I had hoped that I was.
The clearing was large and I felt very exposed. Wings flapped overhead. An owl swooped low over the clearing and disappeared into the trees in front of us and the wind picked up slightly. I struggled to keep up with Kenna's long strides, her black hair was flowing freely in the wind. We reached the end of the clearing, the trees looked slightly more friendly on this side.
As I walked I let my eyes close and my feet feel the groove in the gravel. My mind, still asleep, dreamt of breathing. The lining of my father's old coat escaped inside the pockets and caught my fingers, which were numb from the cold. I would have worn gloves but the sun would be unbearable later in the day. The clouds would rise over the mountains and disappear and the birds would slowly become silent as the heat settled in. But for now it was just cold. I tried to warm my neck by breathing down the collar. It smelled like diesel and sweat.