More handpicked essays just for you.
What is your unforgettable experience during summer vacation
My memorable summer trip
Living in the countryside
Don’t take our word for it - see why 10 million students trust us with their essay needs.
I smell the cool crisp autumn air rustling over the fragile carpet of shriveled leaves. I hear a faint rock tune in the distance: Keep Rollin Rollin! Yeah!: I’m almost there… I feel a sudden burst of energy and suspension rush over me and through my veins, like a little kid in a candy shop. I begin to gaze over the bright color monkey bars and toys as I step onto the main platform of the play area. I smell the clean woodchips bringing back distant memories of County Park. I’m here.
I step over a lively emerald green plant and turn to hear no longer the rock tune but a bunch of ear-piercing screams coming from a group of small kids running on a jungle gym as though the grim reaper was right behind them. I walk over towards a continently located brownish red bench on the outskirts of the energetic park. After I managed to make my way over the bench and sit down I notice the sweet smell of pine in the grayish skies, coming from the fresh pine trees that look as though they have just come from a forest when in actuality they are in the middle of Sacramento.
No longer does life’s daily anguish affect me as I move away from the bench and stroll along the gravel track of the park. I begin to forget my terrible grades in math or why my friends are fighting, it’s so easy to forget as I watch the sunset slowly sinking under the brown fences along with all the other troubles. It’s like I am being magically transported to a place for my head, surrounded by happiness as I circle the...
In the park written by Gwen Harwood, was originally written under a male pseudonym. The poem represents the idea of changing identity because of certain circumstances as well as challenging common ideas, paradigms and values & beliefs which is commonly held amongst mothers in today’s society.
Richard Rodriguez, the author of Aria, develops a personal intake and personal experience on the topic of bilingual education. He uses different rhetorical devices throughout his essay, which include juxtapositions and antithesis. In paragraph 5 of the essay, Rodriguez states that “…it is not possible for a child—any child—ever to use his family’s language in school. Not to understand this is to misunderstand the public uses of schooling and to trivialize the nature of intimate life – a family’s ‘language,”( Rodriguez, Paragraph 5). Rodriguez cultivates this claim by explaining the purpose or the definition of bilingual education and what this education is meant to accomplish. The definition of bilingual education is,”…a program that seeks to permit non- English speaking children…to use their family language as the language of school,” (Rodriguez, Paragraph 5).
In this essay information will be given in order to compare and contrast data about three different styles of architecture. The three styles are Art Deco, Art Nouveau, and Neo Gothic. In order to fully give a clear explanation of these styles, information about architecture will be given first then the three styles will follow with comparing and contrasting points in between.
Early Saturday, August 19th, 2017 morning when my friend Bailey and I arrived to the adventurous Cedar Point ; which is located in Sandusky, Ohio, USA. I was wearing a pink shirt, shorts, and a black pair of shoes. The skies were big and blue, and the sun casted a warmth feeling. The air had a mouth warming feeling, and had the smell of fresh foods in the distance. People had big smiles on their face of enjoyment while others looked nervous or frightened. As I waited in line for the Millennium Force, there were butterflies flying around in my stomach. When I sat in my seat and the clanking of the chains lifted me up the big hill, the waves in the lake were dancing with the wind. We reached the top a cool breeze brushed along my arms, and in a blink of an eye, we were going downhill and all around in twisted movements. I got of the ride and a train was passing by. The fumes from the train were strong and gave a heavy smell of iron as is passed on by. The
The blocks of concrete sidewalk in between two rusty, red brick buildings prickle my skin. I lay out my piece of brown corrugated cardboard and am comforted by its smoothness. It provides insulation on a breezy summer night. I curl up, cramped, in the fetal position; my limbs grow limp as my eyelids weigh down over two chocolate eyes. I can feel my fuzzy black dreadlocks falling down the nape of my neck and into the collar of my thin cotton t-shirt. I pull my white tube socks up to my knees with the help of my toes; only the space between them and the bottom of my shorts is now left uncovered and open to the wind. I deliberately position myself in an attempt to conserve energy before morning comes and invites my stomach to turn into a ferocious growling beast. The storeowner will harp about me finding another stoop by prodding my body with a cobweb-infested broom. I will worry about that tomorrow. For now, I escape into a deep, silent slumber. I begin to dream of another life with a different social setting.
Gender inequalities, such as the gender pay gap, mean that women may find it harder to access the health care she needs. This is because people of lower socio-economic status on average, use less resources available to them. Also, a woman’s health may suffer if she is of lover socio-economic status and therefore, she needs more health care. Women who are stay at home mothers may also find it difficult to access health care due to the design of public transport. Women in the city who cannot drive, may rely on public transport to get them to their medical appointments. However, studies have found that the transport systems are often catered to those who go into the city to work. They do not suit people who are going to another suburb. Women may also have to time their appointments around their children’s schooling schedule. All of these factors mean that it can be harder for women to access the health care she needs. This can have a long term effect on her
Encased in a dark, black bag is the key to happiness, a baseball. As I step down the creaking stairs, I am greeted with a complete mood change. The smooth, wooden rail greets my hand as I reach the last step. A musty smell of air runs through my nostrils as I find myself feeling the cool, condensation on the basement walls. The short walk that feels
This essay is based on the semiotic and formal analysis of design differences and comparisons between art deco and art nouveau. the two movements surround the events of world war 1 mainly and influenced but political and social events within the western cultures such as France, England and America. both art movements play a significant role in representing the way people lived socially and representing such aspects of their life spans as wealth, religious views and political and economic influences.
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.
It is at my discretion that I seek to attend the doctoral program and become a physical therapist. This profession empowers people to regain their independence in ways that for many, may not seem possible. It is my utmost desire and aspiration to help improve and restore physical and functional movement to all persons in need. I am the one who seeks to practice evidence-based treatments and be part of scientific growth within the field. Therefore, it is my responsibility in the context of professionalism, to show a committed attitude at all times in the program. As competitive and vigorous the program may be, I believe that I am an exceptional candidate with the right determination who will represent the profession
I’ve finally made it. When you first land here the immediate difference is all around you whizzing around you creating a sense of life. It 's a sense that you rarely have in a small town it 's bigger I can’t quite obtain a hold of it. It moves fast all through the night and during the day. It peaks in all of my senses to create a brand new sense of the life of the city.
Have you ever heard of Botswana? Well, it is a country in Africa. Most people have never heard of Botswana, just like most people do not know that Egypt is in Africa. Pretty interesting? I, myself, had never heard of Botswana until I was selected to spend six weeks on a missionary internship there. I also did not know that Egypt was in Africa until recently. I would not give up my experience in Botswana away for the world. That is not what I am here to tell you about, though. I would love to tell you all about the mission trip and my plans for going back for a two year stay; however, I would like to inform you about the country of Botswana. I would like to begin by telling you where Botswana is. We will then look at this country under South African rule, compared to the independent government of Botswana that now exists. I would also like to have you look at the people and their culture to sho3w you what kind of people they are, and how simply they live and still get along quite well. I hope you enjoy this informational page of a country that many people have never heard about, and maybe it will inspire you to at least make a visit to see if I am telling the truth.
Along these lines Botswana is a country which has an amusing population development history. At first the country was dwelled by the San or the Basarwa and Khoi. It is argued that these groups originated in in the north of Africa. Around the 300A.D (After Death of Christ) they migrated to the south, where they found the Bantu groups. The groups were chased from the south by the Bantu groups as they believe that they were a threat to their livestock. The san people were the native Botswana people. In 1961 the country experienced colonialism from Britain. Thus the colonies decided to...
Fortunately, I wake every morning to the most beautiful sun lit house. I sit on my porch sipping coffee, while I drink in an atmosphere that steals my breath away. Rolling hills lay before me that undulate until they crash into golden purple mountains. Oh how they are covered in spectacular fauna, ever blooming foliage, and trees that are heavy with pungent fruit. Green it is always so green here at my house. Here where the air lays heavy and cool on my skin as does the striking rays of the sun upon my cheeks. I know in my soul why I choose to be here every day. Pocketed in all the nooks and crannies of these valleys and hills are stately homes, rich with architecture resplendent. Diversity is the palate here; ...