The girl opened her eyes. She was lying on her back in a forest. More specifically, a clearing, where the sun warmed her body, and the soft grass served as a bed. She did not feel any of that. All she felt was the urge to eat- an overriding desire. She slowly got up, testing unfamiliar limbs, and looked around. As far as forests went, it was a fairly standard one. With densely packed trees and bushes teeming with wildlife, it was a sort of near-paradise. The girl felt a tickling sensation on her arm, and saw that an ant had crawled onto it. Without any hesitation, she pinched it between two of her fingers, brought it to her mouth, and ate it. It was so small it didn't even register as food to her- but then, suddenly, she felt compelled to work, and work hard without stopping. She had gained the gift of Diligence from the ant. She stood up, and looked for more things to eat. She saw a frog, and grabbed it from the ground, where it had been resting. With a loud croak, the frog protested its capture- but the girl took no heed, and bit down on its head. It was the only part that fit in her mouth, as her body was that of an extremely young girl. She bit down on the frog, hard, until it …show more content…
She found two more lizards, an earthworm, and another sparrow. But those were insignificant compared to her last meal- a common hill mynah. After she had devoured it down to the last feather, she felt a strange sensation in her neck, and she opened her mouth. Somewhere nearby, she heard a bird call out- and she let out the same call. She had gained the gift of Vocalization. The source of the call, a small warbler, fluttered towards her, then turned around after noticing it had been tricked, but was caught in the girl's grasp. She looked at it interestedly, but let it go. She was full; she had no more need for food. She was not
Once she is instructed on how to eat oysters and balut; a fertilized duck egg, during a birthday celebration of a Vietnamese family member in the neighborhood. While she was able to enjoy the oysters that had been offered to her with no problem she was unable to eat the duck embryo and instead buried it in her garden. Another time she realizes during a visit with her sister, brother-in-law, and new niece that she had picked up slang form the community. By the end of the book even though she was not an animal activist, she does have much respect for her animals and wants their deaths to be humane and is offended when one does not respect the gift of
Denotatively a bird is defined as a, Any of a class (Aves) of warm-blooded vertebrates distinguished by having the body more or less completely covered with feathers and the forelimbs modified as wings, often capable of flying. The authors/Glaspell’s strategic comparison of Mrs. Wright to a bird can be interpreted connotatively that she was a free,
Smith, Gene. "Lost Bird." American Heritage 47.2 (1996): 38. MAS Ultra - School Edition. EBSCO. Web. 6 Apr. 2015.
Peters finds the bird cage, it is empty. This bird cage never actually had a bird in it. In paragraph 218, Mrs. Hale finds the canary has croaked: “‘There’s something wrapped up in this piece of silk,’ faltered Mrs. Hale. ‘This isn’t her scissors,’ said Mrs. Peters, in a shrinking voice. Her hand not steady, Mrs. Hale raised the piece of silk. ‘Oh, Mrs. Peters!’ she cried. ‘It’s—’ Mrs. Peters bent closer. ‘It’s the bird,’ she whispered. ‘But, Mrs. Peters!’ cried Mrs. Hale. ´Look at it! Its neck—look at its neck! It’s all—other side to.’”(Glaspell). Sadly, the bird was strangled, and I think that Mr. Wright did it. Mrs. Wright clearly loved her feathered friend. After it was killed, she wrapped it in a square of silk. Back then, silk was very expensive even for a little piece like that. Mrs. Hale explains how Millie loved to sing, and this bird must remind her of when she was happy. Mr. John Wright was not very happy with this bird. If he could stop his wife from singing and being happy, he could surely stop a little bird. So Wright goes into the room and snaps its neck, destroying his wife’s most prized
Suddenly the blissful world she was in a moment ago disintegrates. As she escapes with frantic haste Eliza espies a group of dying flowers rotting away in silence with the once dazzling petals wilting in desperation, overtaken by a russet plague. The trees she once admired so are taken over by hosts of mites who have infiltrated the internal organs of the giant. A bird lands on a windowsill with a squirming worm in its beak and proceeds to enact nature’s order by calmly devouring the thing while the worm desperately battles a losing campaign as the bird’s comrades virtuously chorus a lullaby, calling for it to sleep.
I tracked over to my favorite spot on the edge of the wood: a clearing encompassed by thick trees. The area had many sweet-smelling balsam trees that reminded me of Christmas back home. A few of the remaining leaves fell from the branches of the maple trees above me.
A molecular miracle occurs every time the Wood Frog faces freezing temperatures. At the point where human skin would freeze and the cells collapse resulting in frostbite, this frog’s system uses colligative properties to secrete sugars which support the frog’s cells and keep them from collapsing.
Sylvia was a 9 year old “nature girl” who met a charming ornithologist hunter on a mission to find the allusive white heron. Sylvia was about 8 years old when she moved with her grandmother from the city to a farm, “a good change for a little maid who had tried to grow for eight years in a crowded manufacturing town, but, as for Sylvia herself, it seemed as if she never had been alive at all before she came to live at the farm.” (Jewett, 1884, 1914, qtd in McQuade, et.al., 1999, p. 1641). Sylvia finds the secret, the white heron. Instead of telling the young hunter, she keeps the secret, because in her mind nature is more powerful than her feelings for “the enemy.”
At first, I did not really care for the stuffed toy, my mother told me. “What do you mean?” I asked, having never remembered a time I did not treasure the stuffed frog. “I’ve always loved Froggy, haven’t
her if she wanted to have sex in the woods, and, to his delight, she
That summer my sister gained a fascination with small pits in the sand by the trailer. The residents of the small pits are grotesque bugs, the larvae of the winged creature called the Antlion. The antlion larvae burrow small conical pits and hides in the tip. If a bug tumbles down the death pit, the antlion grabs the ant with its jaws and feasts upon the bug. My sister desired to capture an antlion. Together, we attempted different techniques to coax the antlion out of the hole. My sister grasped the antlion with her fingers and discovered antlions hide at the center of the sand pit. She explained her triumph to me with bliss, but I watched in horror at the antlion pinched between her fingers. Later we learned a comparatively humane method. We cupped our hands, lifted the sand from the pit and placed the sand on the boardwalk. The Antlion wiggled from the thin layer of sand. We caught our prey, but my sister failed to achieve satisfaction. Now my sister perfected her technique, yet she decided to conduct a scientific experiment. My sister placed an Antlion in a bucket, a few hours and nothing happened. Yet, by the next morning, the familiar Antlion Pit emerged. My sister grew out of capturing Antlions, but every time I journey to the trailer I capture an antlion. After, I perceive the small bug in my hands; I crouch down and release the antlion to the sand. I re-experiences the time we spent deciphering the correct way to catch an
I ask myself why I'm here while I stand at the opening of this cave. I know I have to go in but I just stand here in… Fear? Is this feeling fear? I don’t know. I feel a hand on my shoulder realizing I’m not alone in this. My name James, James the Imp. My friend is Leo the Frog. Leo tracked down the the wish giver in a forest called The Blood Forest in Germany. “You ready?” Leo said in a soft voice. I just simply noded and took the first step in.
As urbanization continues to expand amphibian population are on a global decline. In many rural areas, the only wetland available for aquatic reproduction is artificial ponds. While some species are able to persist in such an environment the majority of amphibians are negatively affected. The introduction of non-native species along with habitat degradation affects the successful reproduction of these native amphibians. Therefore, an understanding of the relationship between these species and their habitat is essential for conservation. This research sets out to determine conservation priorities for pond breeding amphibians in the hopes of preserving their existing populations.
I used to go there to sit down on a rock and watch the town and my trees. There was a very old tree, a maple tree, with a huge trunk. The others were smaller, three in the back, three on my left side and the old maple tree on my right. There were flowers, many kinds, white, yellow, purple and blue. It was nobody's place. Nobody owned that hill, but it was beautiful and peaceful and I dreamed many times about a white house over there.
It was a calm, overcast day, and I found myself resting at the side of a large oak tree, admiring the beauty of the woods that surrounded me.