Changing The Changing Of The Seasons

The setting takes place in a small town called “Starkfield”. Starkfield is a town that is just like its name, it is boring, barren, severe, and harsh. Starkfield is known for its many harsh winters that leave the inhabitants bitter and in harsh condition. Starkfield is a village that lays “under a sheet of snow perpetually renewed from the pale skies” (pg.10).By the time the snow is gone and things are well it snows again. Not only is the snow harsh but it acts as a barrier to many of the residents keeping

The four seasons specify the time of year. Seasons generally prepare you for the weather conditions for the specific months. However, the four seasons, in literature, can represent the mood and age throughout the text. For example, in the story, The Crucible the author used the season, fall, leading the reader to the interpretation that the storyline will have a gloomy and an eerie atmosphere. Therefore, when the author adds the type of weather or describes the climate in his or her story, they are trying to illustrate the mood.

The first snowfall of the year had finally arrived one late November night, blanketing the small cabin and surrounding forest with fresh, powdery snow. The wind howled through the leafless trees, often relieving the weighed down branches of their snowy burden. The smooth and unblemished snow coated everything, leaving the road to the cabin indistinguishable from the surrounding terrain.

A lone candle burns into the senseless night. Its wax trickling down its side. I stare at the clock and it is barely half past nine, yet time seems to stand still. I stare at the window and investigate the nasty mesmerizing blizzard falling outside my window. I could not grasp anything other than the snow. All I can do is moan as each passing second this bloody snow lingers and destroys my vision of a perfect Christmas, in which Santa would come and visit me in my sleep. At the time I was only four but I treasured Christmas and the snow surrounding it. Little did I know the damage that it would entail into my life.

Summer, Fall, Winter, Spring usually seasons would not mean much to a person. In the book “How To Read Literature Like A Professor,” the author, Thomas.C Foster, explains how seasons could be more than just a an indicator of the weather. Seasons of the year could tell many characteristics of a character. During books the seasons could give an insight on the emotions of a character, the age, or the time it may be taking place. In Fosters book he gives an example of just how the seasons of the year could impact a book. Although many people may associate weather or holidays with the seasons authors make it very clear that seasons are more than this. In “ The Great Gatsby,” F.Scott Fitzgerald, the author, also includes the seasons to symbolize these things throughout

Summer, Fall, Winter, Spring usually seasons would not mean much to a person. In the book “How To Read Literature Like A Professor,” the author, Thomas.C Foster, explains how seasons could be more than just a an indicator of the weather. Seasons of the year could tell many characteristics of a character. During books the seasons could give an insight on the emotions of a character, the age, or the time it may be taking place. In Fosters book he gives an example of just how the seasons of the year could impact a book. Although many people may associate weather or holidays with the seasons authors make it very clear that seasons are more than this. In “ The Great Gatsby,” F.Scott Fitzgerald, the author, also includes the seasons to symbolize these things throughout his book.

The four seasons specify the time of year. The seasons generally prepare one for the weather conditions, for the specific months. However, the four seasons, in American Literature, can represent the mood and setting throughout the text. Many authors use this type of metaphor in their texts; for example, The Crucible, Into the Wild, “The Devil and Tom Walker”, and “The Raven” all use one of the four seasons to influence their stories. Therefore, when the author adds the type of weather or describes the month in his or her story, he or she is trying to illustrate the mood.

As I drive up the slight slope of a hill, I stare in wonder at the fresh snowfall on the ground and trees. On the short walk to the lake, I look at all of the ice crystals glistening from the glares of the sun. Families surround me, and all I hear are kids giggling. As I get

Seasons change due to the tilt of the Earth which is 23.5 degrees as it orbits around the sun. When the Northern Hemisphere is tilted towards the sun, it is Summer for that part of earth and winter for the Southern Hemisphere because of the indirect sunlight. Althpugh they both still recieve some sunlight during summer but they do not reach hot temperatures. Six months later when the Earth is on the other side of the sun it would be the opposite with the Southern Hemisphere pointing towards the sun and the Northern facing away. When the earth is midway through its orbit, both hemispheres receive the same amount of rays making it spring and autnm. The North and South Pole always remain

I lay on the side of the sleepy suburban street, at the corner of the intersection where the streetlight hung over me like a question mark. A light snow fell in random flurries, some flakes collecting on the tip of my nose, and then melting down my cheeks in cold tears. The blood pooling around my head started to harden and freeze my hair to the slick asphalt road.

A common misconception for many, is the seasons are affected by the proximity of the Sun and Earth. It's cold out due to the Sun being far away from the Earth,

It was December 23rd, 6;03 A.M. I live in Oregon, right by Crater lake. My family, one little brother, two parents, and two animals. We live in a log cabin, in the woods a ½ mile away from the frozen lagoon. It’s beautiful during the Winter, or as my family calls it; the Season of Frost. The ice glazes across the opaque water. Rich, opulent snow enriches the effect, making it hard to look at the incandescent snow without blinding my round, hazel eyes. Carter(my 7 year old little brother) and I always play in the crisp snow together, building forts and “gifting” snowballs to my parents.Speaking of Carter…

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

It was a frigid day in December. I wore so many clothes that I looked like a penguin. Every breath I took makes a small cloud and scattered. The gloves I worn seemed to be mildness like paws. The buildings behind me were covered by the thick snow. The wall became more brick-red because of the spotless white snow. Some snowflakes drift down on my hair gently. The snow was heavy, but not much wind. My friends bounced from worm house and laughed to me. “We should build a snowman. The snow is heavy enough.” One of my friends advised. We all cheered and started to pile the snow together.

On a snowy and windy night, I was at Barnes & Noble in Green Bay with my friends, Alan and Karina. Christmas music played overhead, the smell of hot chocolate and freshly brewed coffee wafted over, the customers were kind and cheerful, and snow was beginning to blanket the parking lot outside. We were sitting near the cafe wrapping books to support their mom’s school fundraiser. I stared outside and remembered my mom’s warning of the large snowfall that was almost upon us. Around 7:15, the snowflakes were becoming larger and we could barely see outside the window.