The Swing Behind My House
Out behind my house, there is a row of fruit trees. At the end of the row, there is a small open building with a swing inside. Sitting in that swing, I can see off the top of the ridge on which my family lives. When I sit there, looking down past the rows of trees and far into the distance, I realize that the place is mine. It is important to me because it is associated with so many memories, it gives me a place to be alone, and it gives me a chance to be outside in nature.
I have grown up living in the same house my whole life, and that swing has been there for as long as I can remember. I have so many memories of that place. Some of my best memories have been very recent. Before we were dating, my girlfriend and I would sit out there for long periods of time just talking. Now that place is full of memories of Karen. Even now it is comforting to sit there because it reminds me of those times. However, memories of my girlfriend are not the only memories that place holds. Growing up, I have spent time there with both friends and family. I even have memories of sitting there alone, contemplating my life's events.
In fact, being alone is one of the reasons I go there so much. Having time alone is very important to me. It gives me a chance to think clearly without being interrupted. It seems as if there are now fewer and fewer places where that is possible. No one can bother me there. No one can yell at me, argue with me, or annoy me at all. I guess this place helps to keep me from going crazy. I think everyone needs some time alone. I know I do.
Another wonderful quality about my spot on that swing is the fact that it is outside. It is out in the fresh air and natural light and away from technology. I never bring a cell phone or laptop there. I feel as if technology would somehow corrupt the natural beauty of the spot. I do not need to worry about telephones, cell phones, or e-mails in that spot. The beauty of nature is enough for me. It helps me to clear my mind and gives me time to reflect on what is really important in my life.
Each person has a place that calls to them, a house, plot of land, town, a place that one can call home. It fundamentally changes a person, becoming a part of who they are. The old summer cabins, the bedroom that was always comfortable, the library that always had a good book ready. The places that inspire a sense of nostalgic happiness, a place where nothing can go wrong.
Imagine your first home. The place where you lived right after you were born. Where you took
I wasn’t even outside but I could feel the warm glow the sun was projecting all across the campsite. It seemed as if the first three days were gloomy and dreary, but when the sun on the fourth day arose, it washed away the heartache I had felt. I headed out of the trailer and went straight to the river. I walked to the edge, where my feet barely touched the icy water, and I felt a sense of tranquility emanate from the river. I felt as if the whole place had transformed and was back to being the place I loved the most. That day, when we went out on the boat, I went wakeboarding for the first time without my grandma. While I was up on the board and cutting through the wake of the boat, it didn’t feel like the boat was the one pulling and guiding me, it felt like the river was pushing and leading me. It was always nice to receive the reassurance from my grandma after wakeboarding, but this time I received it from my surroundings. The trees that were already three times the size of me, seemed to stand even taller as I glided past them on the river. The sun encouraged me with its brightness and warmth, and the River revitalized me with its powerful currents. The next three days passed by with ease, I no longer needed to reminisce of what my trips used to be like. Instead, I could be present in the moment, surrounded by the beautiful natural
"Untouchability in Nigeria | International Humanist and Ethical Union." International Humanist and Ethical Union | The World Union of Humanist Organizations. Web. 08 Apr. 2010. .
Osei-Nyame, Kwadwo. "Chinua Achebe Writing Culture: Representations of Gender and Tyranny in Things Fall Apart" Research in African Literatures Summer 1999.
The place where I feel the most comfortable, and show my personality, is my bedroom. This is the place where I can really be myself and do what I want; it’s the place I come home to, and wake up every day. My room makes me feel comfortable because it is my own space. My house is always crazy, with my dog barking, and my siblings running around making noise, my room is the only place in the house where I can come and relax without caring about everything else, the only place that I can go to clear my mind.
I pulled into the driveway of my house and parked my car. I grabbed my coat and bag and opened the door. When I got out I instantly began to smell the sweet aroma of the long rose bushes making their way out of our fence and into the world of our driveway. I was so captivated by the fall breeze, and the beautiful smell of fall in the air that I didn't even know that I was to the door. As I snapped back into reality, I looked up and I was standing at my doorway.
Okhamafe, Imafedia. "Geneological Determinism in Achebe's Things Fall Apart." Modern Critical Interpretation: Chinua Achebe's Things Fall Apart. Philadelphia: Chelsea House, 2002. 125-44. Print.
We slowly crept around the corner, finally sneaking a peek at our cabin. As I hopped out of the front seat of the truck, a sharp sense of loneliness came over me. I looked around and saw nothing but the leaves on the trees glittering from the constant blowing wind. Catching myself standing staring around me at all the beautiful trees, I noticed that the trees have not changed at all, but still stand tall and as close as usual. I realized that the trees surrounding the cabin are similar to the being of my family: the feelings of never being parted when were all together staying at our cabin.
I read this article "Reading as a woman:Chinua Achebe 's things fall apart and feminist critics”by Linda strong - leek she wrote " consequently, Achebe 's main character, Okonkwo emerges early in the text as a traditional hero, who has within himself the ability to languish or attain his goals." People always have it behind their mind Okonkwo’s story is what is being told I 'm the novel and the story started and ended with Okonkwo. Therefore, Okonkwo is the hero of his own story. I have failed to see Okonkwo as the hero and the unbalance representation of both gender by the author. I have always seen the women presented in this novel as the hero of the play. One thing I was able to understand was that the author wanted people to see gender representation according to the indigenous societal structure. He wanted people to see this was how gender was represented in the society it wasn 't just about the stereotypical man as the
It was finally fall break. I was visiting my grandma for a few days. Well past dinnertime, I pulled up to the white stately home in northern rural Iowa. I parked my car, unloaded my bag and pillow, and crunched through the leaves to the front porch. The porch was just how I had seen it last; to the right, a small iron table and chairs, along with an old antique brass pole lamp, and on the left, a flowered glider that I have spent many a summer afternoon on, swaying back and forth, just thinking.
Everyone has a special place that people will never forget. Sometimes it is because there were places that people experienced great joy or comfort. A special place represents peoples’ special memories either good or bad. Memory will following people whole life, and store people’s heart deeper. Good memory will coming all time. My special place and my memory is my grandparent’s house; my grandparent’s house practically is my second home. I would never forget that special place because of things going on my grandparent’s house, which is symbolized by my grandparent’s love.
A place, for me, is somewhere that I am familiar with and I recognize it in some way as my own special geographic location. It is somewhere I am emotionally attached to and it is a place that I wish to remain at. I personally feel that it has taken me years to achieve this particular comprehension about where for certain that place is for me in my life, and to make out why I feel a certain way about being within the walls of my own home. I have now come to realize that my home is where my heart will always truly be, because I believe it is the only place where I will always be loved without
This place is meaningful to me because it is part of the county I loved, is part of the county where I grew up and is part of my childhood. This place is in the country in an old region named Appalachia, a small piece of the Appalachian Mountains, in a town named Pikeville.
When reminiscing about my childhood a home is hard to recall. It seemed common for others to have a place called home. Moving from house to house was not the problem, but the empty feeling. Home to me was my grandparent’s house. I spent nearly all of my childhood there. My grandparents bought the one story house with two bedrooms in the early seventies. From the spacious bedroom, to the kitchen with endless possibilities and the way I spent my time this house defined my character.