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Childhood summer
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Our blue Toyota Sienna cruised down the busy street on the way home from the Minnesota Zoo on a humid summer day. My sister and I both were exhausted from the drawn-out, but blissful time at the zoo. I was 10; my sister was 14. My dad was driving; my sister, I, and my sleeping grandma were in the backseat. I was watching the world go by. Passing trees filled my vision for as far as I could see. Propping my arm on the window, I leaned my head on top of my hand. My thoughts rushed back to seeing all the animals at the zoo; I especially liked the tigers and polar bears. Our car slowed down to a stop, the sudden movement jolting me out of my daydream. As we waited for the light to turn green, I saw my dad look into the rearview mirror
with an alarmed look. I looked behind me and saw an oncoming car head in our direction. I instantly noticed the car was coming at us at an unusual fast pace. It veered over to the turning late at the last second and attempted to make a right hand turn without slowing. The car slammed into another car waiting at a stop light. I almost felt my eyes bulge out of my eyes. I was shocked at what just happened. I have seen a car crash in person before. My dad gasped. “Write down the license plate number,” he said to my sister. He told them to her who quickly scribbled them down on a scratch sheet of paper. She handed the paper to him while he dialed 911 and told the dispatcher what was happening. Meanwhile, the victim’s car flew into the direction of a telephone pole and faced a head-on collision. The car hit the pole and skidded onto the grass. The felon’s car backed up and tried to take off down the road. One man in a big pickup truck cut him off and boxed him in with no place to go. The man in the pickup truck got out and kicked the driver’s door repeatedly. Other people arrived to detain the lawbreaker until the police came. The culprit’s car had two men and an older lady who was holding her nose. Other people came to the aid of the victim’s car and an ambulance arrived.
The Little Rock Zoo opened in 1926 with only an abandoned Timberwolf and a circus trained bear. The little rock zoo added animals as the years went on and popularity grew. Today the Little Rock Zoo boasts nearly 700 animals representing more than 200 different species, many being endangered (Little Rock Zoo). This makes the zoo a fun and engaging attraction for the whole family. Although it does sound like a wonderful place to go for a fun filled day, is the little Rock zoo living up to the standards that it claims on its website. Some visitor’s reviews agree and some do not. It has definitely struggled in recent years to hold up to expectations, from visitors and to the Association of Zoos and Aquariums (AZA).The administration
The chorus of howls reminded me of the time my grandmother taught me about wolves and all their unique traits that I would have never known by looking at them. Her passion drew my mind to visualize my nostalgic memories of all the wolf paintings and photographs that decorated nearly all the walls in her cozy home. The wolves continued to howl, and my parents decided for us to find somewhere warm in the zoo, however the memory remained frozen in my mind. I could hear their cries across the park, and I wished I could watch them
November 1, 2016- It is the day I say. I am going on a trip in my car to the Yosemite National Park located in California. It was going to be 32 hours and 2,207 miles to get there but I knew it was going to be worth it.
When I was six years old, I hated car rides. To a six year old, a car ride was the epitome of boredom. There was nothing to do on a car ride except sit there for hours watching the trees. I would get carsick every single time I was in my mom’s Volvo. If I wasn’t sick or bored, I was waiting painfully in the backseat for the next exit ramp so my mom could turn off the road for a bathroom break. My mom would have to bribe me with candy or some other special treat just to get me in a car everyday. Some six year olds were afraid of monsters and doctor’s visits; I was afraid of the car. About ten years later something happened, a change. When I finally got my driver’s license at age sixteen, I was no longer afraid of the once dreaded car ride.
I am jarred out of a relaxing sleep by a voice yelling my name in a loud whisper, and a light burning through my eyelids. Groggily, I open my eyes to see my father standing in the doorway to my messy room. He tells me that I need to get going, that it is 3:00 a.m., and I'm burning daylight. I find my clothes and get dressed. The whole time I wonder why I get up this early to visit the rugged outdoors. I want to go back to bed, but I know my dad will be back in to make sure I am getting ready, in a little bit. Instead, I put my boots and my wide-brimmed, black cowboy hat on, and walked out to catch the horses. The horses are all excited because it is dark and they are not that cooperative. My dad and I get them saddled and in the trailer, and go back into the house to get our lunch, water, and a cup of coffee. Now, we can head for the high country.
As we drove towards the fair I looked down at my arms and they were covered with rigid goosebumps. My legs were shaking and I could not get them to stop. A trip to the State Fair was not how I wanted to spend my 7th Birthday, but I didn’t really have any choice. I couldn’t tell anyone I was afraid of fair rides or that I have never rode any before that would be an embarrassing conversation. Every 10 seconds we would run over a puddle of water in the road and it would splash up on the tinted windows. Every time it happens I jump; I am really on edge. We were getting closer to the Fair and I could see the tallest and scariest ride there. I watched it travel back and forth, every time it gained more momentum until it went around in a full circle. I knew they would make me ride it even if I was throwing up they would still drag me on.
Getting there was always an adventure in itself. Car or boat were the two options of conveyance. The road was terrible. Getting our old Volvo Station Wagon over and around the pits, ruts, and fallen trees involved tactics of fable: feats that no ordinary mortal would dare to attempt. At least, that is how I perceived the various trials from the back seat of the car. I was only aware that Dad would frequently stop the car and exit, to examine, saw, or do whatever was necessary for us to go further on our journey. I sat silently and waited for the journey to come to a conclusion. The destination is what I longed for.
With music blasting, voices singing and talking, it was another typical ride to school with my sister. Because of our belated departure, I went fast, too fast. We started down the first road to our destination. This road is about three miles long and filled with little hills. As we broke the top of one of the small, blind hills in the middle of the right lane was a dead deer. Without any thought, purely by instinct I pulled the wheel of the car to the left and back over to the right. No big deal but I was going fast. The car swerved back to the left, to the right, to the left. Each time I could feel the car scratching the earth with its side. My body jolted with the sporadic movements of the car. The car swerved to the right for the last time. With my eyes sealed tight, I could feel my body float off the seat of the car.
I stopped walking and looked up at the faint stars. The seagulls were flying overhead. They were screeching and swooping at the water. I started to wish I were one of them, flying free without any restrictions or limits. I listened to their voice, the screech. Deep down in I could understand what they were saying. I can't explain it, but I was so in love with the moment I thought I saw things as they did. I was in company of animals that had no concept of time, and no worries, and I was contempt with that. I closed my eyes and the faint sun warmed my face, as if shining only for me. The warmth made ...
One Saturday night, Kasi, Beth, Beka, Amy, and I had nothing to do. Like always, at times like this, we decided we would ride around town. We let the top down on Kasi’s vehicle. It was a red Jeep Wrangler, with red interior and big mud tires. We climbed in the Jeep one by one until we were all inside. Amy, Beka, and Beth all sat in the back after a fight about who had said “shotgun” first. The back was the most uncomfortable. The Jeep was only built for two backseat passengers, so with three back there, it was a tough ride. Kasi and I slid into the front seats. We strapped on our seatbelts, trying to convince the three of them in the back to do so. Our friends did not want to bother strapping in because they were too crowded, and there were only two seatbelts anyway. I was sixteen at the time, and they were all seventeen. We were the perfect picture of youth, five young girls packed into a Jeep with shorts, sweatshirts, and ball caps on.
It was mid August, the sun was still shining high. You could feel the warm breeze on your back, screams and yells filled the air. We had arrived. A few months before that my Aunt had called and asked if they could come down to Virginia (they live in Rhode Island). We had said “sure” and then that time came.
My daughter hooked her finger into mine, and we walked side by side. Our hands swung back and forth in leisure in the same rhythm with our foot steps like two solders marched down the street. My daughter's eyes were busy looking every objects at the front yards. Sometimes, our head tilted back and our eyes looked up to followed the sound of birds chirping overhead. We saw no sign of birds but a ceiling of dense oak leaves.
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.
I walked along the green, freshly cut grass which had smelled like it was mowed minutes before. Darkness engulfed me which prompted me to use my phone as a flashlight to make sure that my path was clear so I wouldn’t fall and break my fragile bones; would be hysterical to my friend who came with me but it would be horrible for me. After the walk, I and my friend Nadia lay down on the grass and what I saw changed my life forever. The cathartic experience had brought tears into my eyes. I never saw anything which was closely comparable to the clear sky.
It was a late fall night in 1970 and I was driving home from a camping trip with my wife. We were talking about all the chores we have to do when we get home like feed all the animals and clean the house up to make it look presentable. We were deep into our conversation when a grey streak bolted out from the bushes and I swerved. The tires screeched, and we crashed into a on the other side of the road. I asked my wife Lisa if she was alright