As a resident of Minnesota, you experience all four of the seasons that mother nature throws at the world, allowing you to form strong opinions about the seasons, particularly winter and spring. From the beautiful coat of fresh white snow, to the snow covered tree branches, winter is quite the scene. However, the bitter cold temperatures can become unbearable at times. On the other hand, spring is the time when nature comes back to life, yet that life gives your vicious allergies.
On a lovely spring morning, you hear the birds singing and the rainwater dripping on your windowsill. As you walk outside you can feel the sun on your skin, followed by a subtle breeze in the wind. You inhale the air through your nose and smell the spring flowers and the freshly cut grass. Glancing down, you find miniature puddles of rainwater on the sidewalk. As you meticulously examine the puddles, you observe the reflection of the clear blue sky, filled with birds flying back and forth from tree to tree. However, the pleasure is ravaged when your allergies kick in. Your eyes start to get wet, your throat itches, and your nose
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You remember the first day of snow. You gazed out the window to spot a squirrel running across the snow-covered fence. You took your warmest jacket and walked outside. Examining the scene, you noticed it was quiet and peaceful, the silence from the white scenery creating an environment of tranquility. You inhaled the cold, dry air and you felt your body slightly shiver. The smell of the air was parallel to that of cold tap water, and when joined with the beautiful white scene, it manifested a refreshing moment. You then remembered you only had twenty minutes to get to work, and your car is under a gigantic pile of fresh snow. You called into work and let them know would be running late. You grabbed your shovel and began the scrutinizing task that so many people
Deep breath, icy wind flows through her nostrils as her eyes drift closed. Silence the mind. Silence the obnoxious chatter. She shouldn’t think of that awful exam, she tells herself. She shouldn’t worry about how hurtful someone else’s comments were to her. Deep breath. Hold. Her shoulders slump. The wind howls around her, snow falls lulling the world into a dreamscape. Finally, there is silence. Goosebumps grow upward on her flesh, a shiver shakes her back, but there is no response. The cold has no effect, she is finally at peace. Mind empty, focusing on the now, she breathes until her body is relaxed and her mind is content
It was similar to the suburban street I grew up on, but in lieu of cookie-cutter houses with stale Bermuda grass, there stood wood cabins with yards covered in snow. The reddish-orange light emanating from the towering street lights pierced through a white fog and gently illuminated the area. Exiting the car, I was overwhelmed with a flurry of new sensations. The gently falling snow absorbed all of the sounds I was used to hearing in a residential area.The low hum of passing cars, birds singing from the trees, and the sound of blowing wind appeared to be muffled, even silenced, by the steady falling snow. I felt enveloped in a cool, but somehow familiar blanket. The smell of burning wood was coming from every direction, as each house I looked at had a thin, grayish plume rising gently from the chimney. The plumes represented the warmth and comfort of the many people I imagined to be nestled by the fire. Looking down the street, I noticed how freshly plowed it was. A thin layer of snow and ice-- like icing on a cupcake, or the glass top on my parent’s nightstand-- covered the street. But on the side of the street sat a pile of snow that could have swallowed me alive. Feeling taunted, I stood there and weighed my options. Chest deep mounds of frozen crystals begged me to dive in and lose myself. Preparing to succumb to the temptations before me, I was momentarily hindered by the fear of my parent’s wrath. But had that ever stopped me
I stepped out of the chilly November air and into the warmth of my home. The first snowfall of the year had hit early in the morning, and the soft, powdery snow provided entertainment for hours. As I laid my furry mittens and warm hat on the bench to dry, I was immediately greeted with the rich scent of sweet apple pie, pumpkin pie, mashed potatoes, and the twenty-pound turkey my mother was preparing for our Thanksgiving feast.
A combination of camphor and soap gave the place an amiable odor, but beneath it was the hint of cigarette smoke. At the first real whiff, ice shot into my heart. Wiping sweat from my upper lip, I blinked to clear away
“Keeping up with the Joneses” (Comic, New York Globe 1913) is a well-recognized quote that I never really paid attention to until the day I decided to replace my cellphone with a newer version. The persistence of the television commercials, internet advertisement, posters and even the social media can persuade or even convince an individual that their current item is out of date and in need of the “new and improved” version. I wonder do we really need to replace our items or is it just conspicuous consumption.
After the winter, people look forward to having all the flowers begin to bloom again and birds begin to fly, announcing the start of spring. The grass turns green and people begin to be outside without five layers of clothing on and snow falling from the sky. Spring is when everything comes alive after the winter hibernation. My favorite time of the year is spring, when you wake up to the birds chirping outside of your windows. It is the time of year when you walk outside and smell the fresh cut grass and the scent of new flowers. On the first day of spring you are even happy to see the little bugs flying around you because you know you are finally done with winter. It is the best time of year, with so many different things happening outside in nature.
What trees did I just pass by? What trees are currently surrounding me? The cold catches up and I don't know where to go. I feel the cold prickling my skin and there is nowhere to go. My mind freezes like the nearby stream.
Although he was no stranger to snow and winter after seventeen years of life; the effect it had still astonished him. It was as if all the force and life of Mother Nature herself had been blunted and put on hold for the empty silence of snow and ice. The birds no longer perched in the green tree tops of the blooming forest just beyond the barn, the green grass no longer waived in the pasture on windy days, and the vibrant colors of all living things seemed to fade into pure white.
Everyone stood to their feet and cheered with thrill and astonishment as the whistle blew. It was on a beautiful Sunday morning. We were on the field with the opposing team, we were playing Saginaw. We were so similar in skill, that no one had a good enough opportunity to score.
A shiver of November wind chills you as you make your way home. Your feet crunch the leaves that have blown so lazily onto the pavement to an almost soothing rhythm. The sky is gray with winter clouds, yet still not threatening a winter storm. Yet, the way your breath freezes in the air and how your fingers rub together in the poorly insulated holes you call pockets makes you hurry. That is why you choose to go down Second Street.
captive by a sheath of frost, as were the glacial branches that scraped at my windows, begging to get in. It is indeed the coldest year I can remember, with winds like barbs that caught and pulled at my skin. People ceaselessly searched for warmth, but my family found that this year, the warmth was searching for us.
Spring time is a time for rebirth. Flowers planted last session begin to sprout, grow and bloom. Trees begin to blossom and pollen showers, birds begin to sing. Time changes and along with that comes longer days. Springs signify that summer and summertime fun is just around the corner; but for schools and school districts it signals the frantic preparation for state testing, and everything it entails.
“Crunch,” whispered the crisp fall leaves blanketing Horizon Hill as I walked along the trail with the companionship of my dog, my mom, and my little sister. It was a clear blue-skied day. There were only a few cotton-like clouds in the sky and the sun was shining through the trees as if you were stuck in a juice box and the brightest light was coming through the straw. My tall brown boots folded and crushed the wandering leaves and sticks on the trail with every step. The mesmerizing fall leaves masked the trail with their bright, exuberant colors of fiery oranges, sunshine yellows, and deep reds and maroons.
I brush my eyes awake, feeling the cold seeping in from my window. It’s 9 AM and it’s winter in Minnesota. Feeling sleepy, I stand up and go outside. I love the winter air. It always refreshes my mind and there’s just a cold bite to it that I enjoy. Coming back inside, I boot up my computer, hoping to enjoy it a little before heading out. The winter days swim together, phasing throughout my mind, and I fall asleep again, or I have woken up.
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.