Essay on A Place In Different Seasons

“The gentle green hills which on either hand enclosed the village, tufted here and there with magnificent trees, the village itself, straggling and wide, each cottage being far apart from its neighbors and each ornamented with flower beds and shrubberies; these with a lovely stream which would through the valley, formed, as far as my memory may be trusted, one of the most exquisite panoramas, on which it has ever been my good fortune to

Once upon a dark and snowy Friday night, a mysterious man named Rabbi Hirsch came out of the dark eeriness of his desolate and abandoned synagogue and asked a boy named Michael Devlin if he could turn on the lights for him. Michael in the book Snow in August by Pete Hamill, at first hesitated, but then he willfully did the task. This started a wonderful friendship between the two Brooklyn residents that brought out the in best each other despite their different backgrounds. However, with the relationship came some physical and emotional turmoil as a result of the Rabbi being Jewish and most of Brooklyn being anti-semitic, meaning that they are hostile towards Jews. This was evident when Frankie McCarthy and his band of best friends named

     Born Lisa Williamson in 1964, Sister Souljah is a hip-hop artist that burst to the forefront of mainstream media in 1992 when she was criticized by then Presidential candidate Bill Clinton for saying “If Black people kill black people every day, why not have a week and kill white people?” Clinton was trying to prove to other Democrats that he did not sympathize with the organization that Souljah was a member of. She basically said Bill Clinton and went on to sign music and publishing contracts. She has become one of the more passionate and articulate voices to emerge speaking for young African Americans in the United States. She has written and published to works: No Disrespect, and

To kick off National Domestic Violence Awareness Month, the Pediatric Dentistry of Ft. Myers will host unique snow-themed fundraising event on Saturday, October 1

After two long hours of traveling with nothing to look at but the passing trees, we finally arrived at the farm. As we piled out of the car, I looked at the dirt road we came in on and turned to the house. It was one story and had a red tin roof, surrounded by a large grassy field and then woods beyond that. Twirling around, I walked into the house and plopped onto the closes bed. As everyone else unpacked, I locked myself in the room like a petulant child.

After Hitler refused to stop the invasion of Poland, Britain and France declared war on Germany. This was the beginning of World War 2, and the United States would shortly join to fight the Axis Powers. In July, 1944 there was an assassination attempt on Adolph Hitler (Page 3). This was the start of the book called The Longest Winter by Alex Kershaw. The Longest Winter, Lieutenant Bouck leads his platoon in the Battle of the Bulge and also through prisoners of war camps in Germany. Kershaw is able to talk about the platoon specifically and describe their struggle through the POW camps. In this book, Alex Kershaw focuses on mainly on the platoon of the 394th Infantry Regiment, 99th Infantry division. The Longest Winter is a book that tells

Fish swim around in a swirl of color without even realizing the supremacy of their outer appearance. I would imagine they’re smiling underneath that glassy blanket they live in. The air is always crisp and full of natural purity with just a wisp of campfire smoke every now and then. Pine trees season the scenery with fresh bursts of forest green and their famous musky scent. When the sun starts to go down and the remaining light hits the water, it looks like a rainbow of watercolors spilled ever so gently onto the surface and you’re heart skips a beat from the age old beauty of it all. At that very moment, it makes me feel like nothing bad could ever come near me and whatever shall happen thus far, I can still depend on the sun to make it’s breathtaking decent into the night. Everything at Jordan Lake has always been profound for me, simply because it’s been an outlet that has always been there for my entire life. It is not only a symbol of the hardships I was able to overcome throughout my life with silent contemplation and rounded logical thinking but a reminder to stay humble and appreciate the people I have been gifted with as a support

Standing over eight thousand feet in the atmosphere is the translucent alpine body of water, Tenaya Lake. You can sense the decreased temperature as the sudden gusts lash at your body. As you nibble the enviornment, the diminished oxygen is prevalent. The wind shrills across the lake as it makes its way to the tree line. The numerous sloping mountains encircle the metallic lake. The aroma of immense pines and glorious wildflowers floats throughout the zone. The cherished mountainous Tenaya Lake, above eight thousand feet in elevation, is without a doubt, one of God's fascinating

The house that Lennie, George had bought had undergone many changes. It had a new coat of yellow paint like the colour of ducklings, with a black roof and a chimney for the stove. The house was perfectly located in within the hills and meadows, not far from the Salinas River. It was only just hidden from civilization but felt like a mile away from anywhere. A place like this would be difficult to find but certainly not impossible.

You know what the best thing about winter is? When it’s over. Winter is that time of the year where getting out of your bed feels like absolute hell. People struggle every day trying to get up for work and for school simply because it’s as cold as the Arctic. Even with heating available nearly everywhere your hands and feet (especially fingers and toes) get painfully cold and numb to the extent where they feel like nothing.

“I want to find out what’s up there.” As she drove to the tallest peak surrounding the town, she looked at the white fluffy clouds covering portions of the mountaintop before noticing the two-story house in the field and stopped. Looking at the tiles missing, the loose boards hanging from the roof, and the weeping willows with their long limbs wrapped around the house and the vines covering portions of the house gave it a true, ghost story façade.

The 2015-16 Season presented by the Cache Valley Center for the Arts at the Ellen Eccles Theatre, marks the 23rd season of world class performing artists coming to Cache Valley. The season features a wide variety of shows including, the touring Broadway Musical Million Dollar Quartet, the Bar J Wranglers who will celebrate 15 years of coming to the Ellen Eccles Theatre and classic hits performed by The Hit Men: Former Stars of Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons who will sing hits from Frankie Valli, Tommy James, Jim Croce and other artists they toured with during the 60’s, 70’s and the 80’s. Season tickets go on sale August 17 and are available online at www.CacheArts.org, by phone (435) 752-0026 or can be purchased at the box office located

A red brick house on top of a small hill is where my memories reside. A slightly curved gravel road led to the front of the house. Eight or nine rose brown apple trees randomly covered the plush green lawn. Down the small hill, muddy brown water trickled down a ditch with cattails surrounding it. One enormous willow tree sat in the background, to the right of the house, to complete the picture. It almost seemed like a picture from a postcard. But when

In his novel Snow Country, Yasunari Kawabata depicts a relationship between two people in the mountainous region of Japan. Shimamura, a businessman from Tokyo, visits a village in the snow country and develops a relationship with Komako, a geisha in that village. Their relationship is the central focus of the novel, as it changes each time Shimamura leaves for Tokyo and returns. Kawabata uses the changing of the seasons to reflect these changes in relationship. Since the novel is set in the snow country, the seasons have specific characteristics, and these parallel the relationship between the two central characters. Spring is a time of new beginnings in the snow country

It was a cold day, so cold that your arms start to sting as if a needle is impaling the surface of your skin. The wind applies a force which feels as if your face is oozing with thick crimson red blood. The gray puffy clouds covered the sky and dropped small snowflakes onto the road’s surface. A man stood there, freezing, clearing the coat of thick white snow from the concrete road. His nose runs with a river of snot that floods out when the cold wind strikes. His sense of smell is heavily clogged by the slimy snot, but he can still smell the scent of the steamy hot chocolate which sits on the top of his snow covered car. His feet start to numb because of the cold flood which soaks through his boots to his white, silky socks. His feet feel as if he stepped into the freezing cold ocean. As if he fell through ice and he was stuck standing there. The vast pile of the ice white snow feels almost like a quicksand around his black rubber boot. Foggy figures of people shovel the big piles of snow off the sidewalks. They scrape and pick at the glossy white ice which sticks to the sidewalk like a little boy clinging to his mother's side. His feet still sting as if he was stepping on pins and needles. His hands are damp with sweat from grasping the curved metal shaft attached to a socket which holds the blade. The blade cuts holes into the thick powdered snow which is removed from the endless pile. The jet black shovel is filled with slushy snow and crystal shards of ice. The end of