Living in Oklahoma, it was okay to never listen to the weatherman on the news. There were “lethal ice-filled calamities” that only seemed to cause slight harm to the cable wires that hung from the poles. Then there were “days of effervescent sunshine” that carried some of the most detrimental thunderstorms known to man. When David Payne predicted the lesser of evils accurately, my grandma would drag me outside to sit on the front porch with a small radio and some cards, captivated by the storm. Initially, I would cower behind her dress, but I slowly came to embrace the sounds and senses, only to be rewarded with overpowering scents of euphoric tranquility. Additionally, there were times that she’d take me outside when I was crying or sleepy.
The smell took me to a place of gentle but free-spirited caprice; goosebumps poured across my skin, and yet I was enveloped in a pool of warmth. As I grew, the rain became a solitary pacifier, and I no longer needed the presence of my grandma for central amenity or comfort. Eventually, the years passed to catch up with my grandmother, and I began venturing outside on my own so that I could listen to the wet static of the sky and greet myself with the smell of the rain’s aftermath. When I was drenched in life’s problems, the smell matured into a refresher, which could unlock any gates that kept me from the flowing motivation and creativity waiting on the other side. Being overwhelmed in storms of life was a thing of the past; it was imperative to make time to meditate and take care of myself, inhaling those essential breaths of rain and immersing my spirits in serenity.
In Scott Russell Sander’s response to Salman Rushdie’s essay on the benefits of moving, Sanders claims that people should focus more on where they are at instead of trying to fulfill one’s materialistic desires. He also rebuts on the idea that movement is entirely good. By using historical evidence, direct quotes and a respectful, conversational tone, Sanders expresses his belief on why humans should settle down and abandon the tireless moving.
As history cascades through an hourglass, the changing, developmental hands of time are shrouded throughout American history. This ever-changing hourglass of time is reflected in the process of maturation undertaken by western America in the late nineteenth century. Change, as defined by Oxford’s Dictionary, is “To make or become different through alteration or modification.” The notion of change is essential when attempting to unwind the economic make-up of Kansas in the 1880’s and 1890’s. Popular culture often reveres the American cowboy, which has led him to become the predominate figure in America’s “westering” experience (Savage, p3). However, by 1880 the cowboy had become a mythical figure rather than a presence in western life. The era of the cowboy roaming the Great Plains had past and farmers now sought to become the culturally dominant figure and force in the American West. Unlike the cowboys, farmers were able to evolved, organizing and establishing the Populist Party. The farmers’ newly formed political organization provided them with a voice, which mandated western reform. Furthermore, the populist ideas spread quickly and dominated western thought in the 1880’s and 1890’s. The period of the 1880’s and 1890’s marked the end of the American cowboy and gave farmers a political stronghold that would forever impact the modernization of the West.
The Santa Ana winds cause people to act more violently or unruly and makes others irritable and unhappy to a great extent. Joan Didion explains to the reader about how the Santa Ana affects human behavior in her essay “Los Angeles Notebook.” Through the use of imagery, diction, and selection of detail Didion expresses her view of the Santa Ana winds.
The time of westward expansion was filled of hardships and challenges for the citizens of America. They left their homes at their own will to help make life better for themselves, and would letter recognize how they helped our country expand. The people of the Oregon trail risked their lives to help better their lives and expand and improve the country of America. However, no reward comes without work, and the emigrants of the Oregon Trail definitely had it cut out for them. They faced challenges tougher than anyone elses during the time of westward expansion.The Emigrants of the Oregon trail had the the most difficult time surviving and thriving in the west because of environmental difficulties, illness abundance, and accident occurrence.
Both Phillip and Timothy are highly resourceful survivors. When they notice signs of the impending storm, Timothy’s resourcefulness enables him to try to protect them: “he took the remaining rope that we had and tied it securely around the same sturdy tree… I realized then why he had used our rope sparingly” (103). Timothy’s c...
The breeze is the world’s way of cooling down the Earth from the blazing hot summer and preparing the Earth for the winter chill. When the wind chill blows upon someone’s skin, small goosebumps outline the skin to where every microscopic hair on the body is visible. Not only does the wind chill bring goosebumps to people’s skin, but it also brings in tranquility into the lungs. During the daytime, one deep breath of the autumn air will bring tranquility to one’s soul. The morning air brings a calmness that one’s entire body becomes to connect with all the elements within the environment. However, at night the autumn air brings dewy mist that stains one’s skin with perspiration. The first arrival of mist will bring a gray blanket of fog that pierces the sky. The gleaming moon in the autumn night aligns the streets perfectly that there is still some light that pierces through the gray blanket of fog. Although the fall contrasts the appearance of air from day to night in autumn seems like nature’s own battle between lightness and darkness, the brisk autumn air possesses a tranquil earth tone that would just put one’s being at
Thunder rolled intensely outside, my aunt, mother, sister and I were sat calmly in the basement. We had been through this many times before; I mean afterall, Kansas was part of Tornado Alley. 2. My sister and I were young when this happened, her probably four or five, me about eight. 3. Before we had even started driving to my aunt’s house; since she’s the only one with a basement; my sister and I were complaining about being hungry. 4. Mom said she would get us something to eat soon, but then the sirens started blaring. 5. She called my aunt and told her we would be over in about ten minutes. 6. Me and my sister continued to complain about being hungry because, we always had to get what we wanted. 7. So my mom stopped at McDonald’s and got us some food. 8. After we were almost five minutes later than we said we would be my aunt panicked. 9. Jenny, my aunt, was calling like crazy. 10. When we finally got to her house she lectured my mom about how it wasn’t safe to have us out there like that with a tornado in the area. 11.Afterwards, we all sat on the porch and watched the storm. 12. That’s my favorite memory with my family, and it’s one I’ll never forget.
As I was driving back home from visiting family in Noxon, Montana, it was a very sunny and pleasant drive in the mountains of Western Montana. But little did I know that shortly after I pass Missoula there would be an awful howling snow storm! The kind that is so white that it blinds your eyes if you stare into it for too long. The storm brought back warm memories of summer in Montana. Memories of driving on nice roads. When I was driving in that storm, the roads were ice covered the majority of my 600 miles home! The roads were so bad that there were semi trucks all over the ditch, that had slid off the icy interstate. But me, white knuckled, and strained eyes, I kept driving; no faster than 55 mph.
Halfway up it was beginning to look doubtful, the wind was picking up and everyone was getting out rain gear to prepare for the storm. I voiced my doubts to Phil and he said we might as well keep going until the lighting got too close. So we did. The thunder grew in volume and the echoes magnified the noise to a dull roar sometimes. Then suddenly it began to ebb. The wind died down and lightening came less frequently. I exchanged relieved looks with Phil after a bit, but kept the pace up--I didn’t want to take chances. Eventually it hit us, but by then it was nothing more then a heavy rain. We kept moving, if slower, and made it over the ridge with no other problems. That night I enjoyed the meal a little more and slept a little deeper realizing how much is important that easily goes unnoticed until something threatens to take it away.
In both “Storm Fear” by Robert Frost and Edith Wharton’s great novella Ethan Frome, the landscape is personified to fight against the characters. Frost and the characters in the novella are challenged by brutal winter storms that do not allow them to communicate with each other effectively. Only when it is to late do they say what must be said and do what must be done. In the end, the landscape leaves Mattie and Ethan crippled, and Frost snowed in. If they were able to articulate, things would have been different.
In Zora Neale Hurston's Their Eyes Were Watching God, Janie noticed while living in the Everglades that some of the Indians started leaving the town and heading east. She also noticed that the animals started to scatter as well. Janie asked one of the Indians why they were leaving and he said that there was a hurricane approaching. The park ranger that guided us on the slough slog informed the class that this is a fact. The animals as well as the sawgrass know when hurricanes are approaching. The Indians these days know when a hurricane is approaching as well. Yet, these days they most likely find out from the weather channel reports on their big-screen TV's in their casinos instead of analyzing whether or not the sawgrass is blooming! It would have been interesting to have had class this Friday to see for ourselves if the blooming of sawgrass is indeed a fact now that Hurricane Michelle is approaching.
Some examples of different atmospherics moods that both rain and snow creates are that of total justice. As in “The Dead” by Joyce and in “The Three Strangers” by Thomas Hardy, they symbolized how partial weather is with everyone that it falls “upon everyone between good and evil or living and dead.” On the contrary, they can also symbolize destruction due to the massive natural disasters they are associated with at a large rate as floods or blizzards.
As I stepped out into the gleaming sunlight, I had to shield my eyes from the sudden glare that came to rest upon my eyes as I moved out of the shadows of my family’s dimly-lit garage. After not seeing the sun for over two months, I paused to muse about how unusual it felt to finally be under the sun’s rays again, along with how strange it was to venture forth into the environs without anything related to winter wear protecting my sensitive skin from the biting cold. It was a Monday afternoon, and the weather app on my phone brightly informed me that we would enjoy a high of eighty-one, and the lowest temperature, barely falling below fifty seven. I had to stop and think back as to why I had ever complained about the weather here in Arizona, but I suppose experiencing what the other end of the meteorological spectrum has to offer really puts things into perspective. After I had my moment of adjustment, I climbed into the passenger seat of my mother’s Mazda and after she had finished her never-ending feud with the GPS system of the vehicle, we began the journey to our restaurant of choice, The Farm Kitchen.
We decided that today we will venture out into the forest. Our supply of food and water has run out, but our willpower hasn’t. As long as we keep on moving, Tom says, we’ll be fine. So imagine the delight we felt when we woke up to the sound of rain for the first time. I’ve never noticed how euphoric the drop-drop-drop of the rain can be as it trickles from the canopy to the forest floor. We danced around in glee as we drank from the gifts of the clouds, but we could not celebrate for long. We still needed to find food or we were going to die.
Weather is a significant aspect of our everyday life that we must face each day. Whether you’re greeted by the bright rays of the morning sun, or dark, nimbus clouds looming over a grey sky, they both have the ability to influence our moods and behavior. Although some people continue to argue that the weather has no relation whatsoever to the way we feel, it is evident that there are factors such as sunlight and temperature, that have the power to significantly altar your emotions and actions over the course of the day.