Lake Michigan Memories
My childhood trips to Lake Michigan form a major part of my identity as a Michigander. Lake Michigan is a system of five, fresh water lakes named the great lakes. Four out of the five great lakes surround the state of Michigan; as a result most Michiganders travel to a nearby Great Lake in the summer. My Grandmother purchased a trailer by the Lakeshore and allowed her eight children to spend a week every summer on the Lakeshore. Thus like other Michiganders, my family heads to Lake Michigan every summer. Over the years my vacations on Lake Michigan shaped great memories for me.
My most common memory of Lake Michigan revolves around a swim in the lake. Still, when I swam in the lake, I gamble on the weather. After
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The beach offered a perfect spot to nestle in the warm sand and relax after swimming. In my childhood, I constructed sand castles. The water washed across the sand and formed little ripples on the beach. With my little hand, I grabbed the wet sand. The sand drizzled from my hands and formed the towers of drip castles. I would dig into the sand and carved out a small moat around the castle. After the night, the tide swept away the sand castles and the beach returned to its previous form. Also, I swung on the beach. While on the swing, I watch the sunset. The sunset formed a palette mix of pink, orange and brown. The blue waves of Lake Michigan stretched for miles beyond the sight of the naked eye. The Lake spread as far away as the ocean. I frequently wondered if anyone, except a superhuman could see the other side of Lake Michigan. A different activity on the beach was beach volleyball. As a child, I lacked athletics fitness but enjoyed the occasional beach volleyball game. Other people on the beach joined in the fray and people moved in and out the volleyball game. The memories of the beach hold a special place in my …show more content…
My grandmother displayed an independent nature and lived alone. When my family traveled to the trailer, my Dad frequently brought my grandmother. My grandmother enjoyed the company of our family. Most of the time my grandmother napped, but I relished the times we spent in conversation about mundane topics, like the weather. After meals, everyone dispersed to assist with chores. My grandmother insisted on washing the dishes, since the warm water smoothed the arthritis pain in her hands. Now she has reached the age of ninety-six and her memory is fading. Her basic functional skills slowly declined. When I ask her my name, she stares at me with a blank face or she confuses me for another cousin. I want grandmother to recall my name. Her decline saddens me, but time cannot be reversed. Yet, the memories I shared with my grandmother endure permanently. I treasure
As I looked out the window of the restaurant, I could see the sun bouncing off the sparkling water below. Boats and other water craft scatter the water as well as people on water-skis and inner tubes. The picturesque view makes life seem so much better and just looking at the river makes a person calmer. The scene just described is the view from the window of a restaurant called Sophia in Minneapolis, Minnesota, and the corresponding river is the mighty Mississippi. Although Minnesota is the land of 10,000 lakes, this scene could be found right here in the valley of Phoenix. The way this is possible is through the Rio Salado Project.
The whole island is in the shape of a giant square with white sandy beaches full of people sunbathing, swimming and fishing right on the shoreline. From the end of the hot pavement parking lot to shore of the beach is an ocean of soft white sand. The pearlescent white sand seems to know how to invade every nook and cranny almost as if it enjoys it. Walking around the beach on the fluffy whiteness surrounding the parking lot, the seagulls are fighting over scraps of food on the ground. “Sandy beach ecosystems provide invaluable services to humankind. Their functions have been exploited through history, with significant anthropogenic effects (Lucrezi, 2015)”. This white sandy beach is a beautiful refuge from the mundane grind of everyday life. The smell of the misty ocean air mixed with the sound of seagulls hovering above and kids playing is a tonic for the mind. The feel of the sand between their toes and the waves crashing over them as people swim in the water, or the jerk of a fishing pole when someone is catching a fish makes Fred Howard Park one of the best places to relax. Standing on the beach looking out on the water, people are kayaking and windsurfing. The lifeguards watching vigilantly in their bright red shirt and shorts, blowing their whistles when they see someone being unsafe. After a long day of swimming and laying around visitors head back over the soft white sand to the showers, in order to rinse off the menacing sand that clings to everything like a bad habit. Everyone rushes over the hot pavement burning their feet to reach their cars so they can put away their beach paraphernalia which is still covered in the white sand, nearly impossible to completely leave behind, so when they get home it serves as a reminder of where they were that
The lake itself plays a major role throughout the story, as it mirrors the characters almost exactly. For example, the lake is described as being “fetid and murky, the mud banks glittering with broken glass and strewn with beer cans” (125). The characters are also described as being “greasy” or “dangerous” several times, which ties the lake and the characters together through their similarities. The narrator explains, “We were bad. At night we went up to Greasy Lake” (124). This demonstrates the importance that the surroundings in which the main characters’ choose to be in is extremely important to the image that they reflect. At the beginning of the story, these characters’ images and specifically being “bad” is essentially all that mattered to them. “We wore torn up leather jackets…drank gin and grape juice…sniffed glue and ether and what somebody claimed was cocaine” (124). They went out of their ...
This vacation spot White describes through memories of his boyhood days always seemed to be so wonderful no matter what had gone wrong. White recalls the time when "[his] father rolled over in a canoe" and another time when "[they] all got ringworm" but none of this mattered in the long run, after all, this was the best place on earth. To White the mountain lake is seen as "constant and trustworthy", and on the trip back there with his own son, White wondered if "time would have marred" the appearance of the lake. Thoughts of the time spent there summer after summer continued to revisit White throughout the trip and everything from thunderstorms to the stillness of the water
"Once More to the Lake," by E.B. White is a short story in which White recalls his annual summer vacations to the lake, and in turn develops a conflict within himself regarding the static and dynamic characteristics of this lake, and their relation to the changes that White himself is experiencing as he is growing older. When White takes his son to the lake, he comes to the sharp realization that certain aspects of both the lake and himself are different, and with a sense of reminiscence, White takes us from the time his father first took him to the lake, and tells the new story of his most recent visit when he is no longer a boy, but a father, showing his son this "holy place" for the very first time. Throughout the story, White comments on how many of the elements of the lake have changed, and how other things have stayed constant with the passage of time.
To me, the drive felt like forever even though it was only 35 miles from Petoskey to Mackinaw City. As 10-year-old me sat in the back seat of my mom’s car, I remember repeatedly asking the question most parents dread to hear, “are we almost there?” Every time I asked she would shake her head in bemused frustration and respond, “you’ll know when we get there”. At the time, I was not sure what I was most excited for: the ride on the ferry, the big horses, the historical fort, the inevitable delicious ice cream; it all sounded whimsically amazing and I could not be more excited to arrive on Mackinac Island.
People from this continent made up about 20% of Colonial America in the years leading up to the American Revolution, helping raise tobacco in Maryland and Virginia. What continent provided the workers who served either on the farm or as servants in towns and cities?
Now switching gears towards Big Sandy, the first thing anyone would notice is that this is truly a beautiful lake, a gem of Minnesota. If you come down from Highway 65 you’ll get a clear shot at the beauty the lake contains. One of the first things that catches people’s eyes is t...
First, White uses imagery throughout his essay to create an effective visual of his experiences at the lake. To start his essay, White reflects on his childhood memories of the lake when he and his family visited every summer: “I remembered clearest of all the early morning, when the lake was cool and motionless, remembered how the bedroom smelled of the lumber it was made of and the wet woods whose scent entered the screen.” This passage enhances
Welcome to Lake Martin. Lake Martin is where many people come to spend time with their families and to relax. This lake is known for the Martin Dam and former/current coach's own land or a house on the lake. On the lake you can do many fun things such as spend time on the water and where to eat lunch and dinner after a long day out on the water.
The lake represents both the author’s past (childhood) and the present (when he took his son). As White spends time with his son at the lake, he experiences a dual existence. He says, “I began to sustain the illusion that [my son] was I, and therefore, by simple transposition, that I was my father” (White 459). This shows that White reminisces his childhood by going to the same lake that he went as a child and goes back and forth from the past to the present. In the past, there would be “peace and goodness and jollity” (White 462) which indicates that it used to be quiet and peaceful. Due to advancement of technology, White gets startled by the loud motorboats. He continues to describe his childhood compared to the present with his son. White would reminisces his adolescence and talk about how “ the boys played their mandolins and the girls ang and we ate doughnuts dipped in sugar… and what if felt like to think about girls back then” (White 463). White demonstrates that he has internal conflict about himself since he is trying to relive his adolescence and he is afraid of becoming older and eventually dying due to age. The last word in the essay is death since White realizes that his son will enter adolescence which shows that when the son matures, White will grow older until he dies of old age. His son will end up taking the
There is no denying the presences of the Great Lakes, not only are they unavoidable, but they have also been a major player in the growing of civilization in North America and Canada. A person would have to live under a rock, no pun intended, to not know about these phenomenons. Most would ask from where did these Great Lakes come? How did they form? How are they beneficial? What are some of the Great Lakes here? A Great Lake is an extremely large inland freshwater sea, which is amazing since we are surround by oceans occupied with salt water. The Great Lakes are the largest system of fresh surface water on Earth, which makes them vital to our survival. However, they have been subject to damage by pollutants. There are five lakes in North America, which are: Lake Michigan, Huron, Erie, Superior, and Ontario. Not many people take the time to try to understand our Great Lakes or the importance of them. Coming to understand what these Great Lakes are, how they got here, and how they are beneficial to our ecosystem will ultimately help us further appreciate their vital diversity and encourage us to preserve them.
The water beats at the bank feel gently, and resides carefully to avoid over soaking it. The air is fresh and overwhelming with cool gushes of wind blowing past, provoking the trees to yawn and some times sleep. It was a lovely Valentine day and perfect for a picnic at Lake Lavon.
As I walked down the worn dirt path to the ocean, I was astonished by how many people were lounging by the water.. As I got closer to the water’s edge, I contemplated why more people don 't swim and decide to tan in the sun instead. The feeling of being alone with the ocean and my thoughts played in my mind.
This lukewarm water was deceiving though, because it only seemed lukewarm due to the drop in temperature and misty rainfall. The waves were rushing toward me like a bull to a matador’s red flag. My mouth tasted as if someone dumped a whole shaker of salt on my tongue. The wave pushed my further and faster as it I could feel the wave breaking on my body and there I was back at the shallows again floating in with the white wash and was ready for another wave. As I stood back up and ran back out to the deep water I saw one of my surfing mates catch the most perfect barrel it was rad. It would have been a great snap shot. I caught another wave, this one was even bigger. The thrust of the wave was twisting my body and I was pulled towards the sea