Clackamas Town Center Descriptive Essay

Cars, trains, and planes, they allow us to move great distances away from family and friends. In a car 20 miles may not seem long but in reality is quite a ways away. Anyone nowadays can travel far in a short amount of time especially away from family. That’s what cars are

Baltimore city, home to a wealth of people from all walks of life and how it became the city we know today. Founded by the British during the 1700’s as a port city, Baltimore has a significant historically impact from the American Revolution to the civil war. Originally named for Lord Baltimore of England. The city began its roots on Native American land, which unfortunately pushed the native Americans westward as the city began to grow. Baltimore was chosen as a city settlement as is has one of the most naturally protected harbors in the Americas. The Appalachian mountain range to the west protects the city from eastern moving storm fronts, and the Delmarva peninsula serves to prevent tropical storms or hurricanes

I’m walking now. At five in the morning with rain pouring down, I’m walking to the factory. My boots not only gush into the trash, but slosh in the mud the rain creates. I’m hugging this journal close.

Eugene heads to Svyatopolko High School on his usual long, dreadful, hour long walk. Massive void-like clouds begin to congregate overhead and it begins to pour icy drops of what he can only hope to be water. The small drizzle soon transforms into a torrential downpour. Each drop of rain hits Eugene’s bare skin like a bullet

The weather box on the front door sang quietly: "Rain, rain, go away; rubbers, raincoats for today…" And the rain tapped on the empty house, echoing”. The author would not

From my room,I had smelt and sensed that rain was about to  arrive and had scurried outside before the drops commenced.Sweet anticipation formed inside as I awaited the blissful raindrops to pelt me on my face and body.The wind rose higher and grew frighteningly violent,swirling throwing rocks and gravel into the air.The thin

Rain hit my head, raced down my face and back. We trudged through the mud, sinking in our boots feet deep. All we could see was our breathe, all we could hear was the wind slapping against the trees, rain hitting, and our boots squishing in the mud. We expected the weather to be like this, the weather channel had been going crazy all week about a storm passing through our way around 5 pm today. Just as predicted the rain became heavier, fog thicker, and sky darker. But our search group did not give up; we had been searching months for the beloved missing girl named Emma Barrett in the Elliott State Forest in Oregon. She was last scene heading into the forest with her parents on a Tuesday afternoon for a hike, hours

When the bus first got there I was feeling a whirlwind of emotions fright , anxiety, nervousness. At the front gate there were metal detectors making a the regular sounds, no sounds and the annoying beeping which signified the guilt of the rule breakers. There also was this one voice message on loop saying have a good time and it was more than a bit annoying. When the endless line finally came to an end I had a new thing to worry about, would my metal fillers set off the alarm? When I went threw I was sweating bullets, then I went threw nothing went off thankfully. I didn't go wondering around on my own, in my group was my cousin Tyler Hargarten, Chris Grunwald, Kora Grover, and a girl named Carly. Chris had the idea that we should all go to the east side of the

Water, water everywhere: It’s dripping from the dying leaves and forming murky puddles on the waterlogged forest floor. The air is sharp and pungent, almost acrid. Bracken and dry twigs are relentlessly snapping at my ankles and droplets of water are running down my spine and collecting in my sodden shoes. It’s making the late September chill bite my skin like an icy fire. It’s consuming me, engulfing me. I don’t know how much longer I can last.

September 24-29 our Theatre Appreciation class was encouraged to see Western Kentucky University’s production of Thornton Wilder’s play Our Town in Russell Miller Theatre. Our Town delivers a message for how we should live our lives: to the fullest. We should appreciate every moment because we may never get a second chance. The play jumps from Emily’s wedding day to her funeral in the blink of an eye, emphasizing the idea that our lives are fleeting. From the very beginning of the play, death is present in the Stage Manager’s narration. He makes it clear that the events we’re about to witness are told in retrospect, and this understanding casts a pall over the everyday occurrences we witness. The characters onstage (with the exception of the deceased Emily) do not recognize the brevity of their lives.

The mud glueing my recently bought sneakers to the trail became deeper and deeper as we continued walking but I was too busy admiring the vibrant leaves around me to let it phase me. The smell of trees and the subtle trace of cinnamon floating in the air seemed to shoot into my nose. The wind picked up and formed a nice, light breeze. The crisp air blew through my hair which was firmly tied in a ponytail. I continued walking down the slender path, every once in awhile my path was crossed by a small chipmunk or squirrel. I thought back to this morning when my mom had asked me if I wanted a jacket, I refused. Regretting that decision I crossed my arms in front of my body. It was about 2:00 and I hurried along as the cold air continued whisking

Growing up in Houston, Texas I found getting around town with good transportation was important. In 1981 I remember my grandpa saying “If the traffic is a fuss, Get on the bus” and I wasn’t about to ride my bike or get on another Metro bus again. I had my first vehicle in 1981 and my days of seeing the world and traveling the highways had begun; little did I know I would use every means of travel to see the world. Traveling was in my blood, by land, air, or sea; I had to do it all.

Chalk flying on our bruised shins and flip flop tanned, callused feet, as the ball kept bouncing. Up and up and up we go, passing houses one at a time. The ground scorching our unclipped toes as we race the cars up the street to the shaded part of the sidewalk. Pausing, only to catch our breath we wasted on hill sprints up to cooler ground, until we realize what we're stepping on. Sap as sticky as gum that has been sitting out in the sun all day, slowly dripping from the Pine tree hanging above us as if it knew the pain we were in. Out of the shade we went, dreading what lies ahead all thinking about the logic behind not wearing shoes. Finally turned the corner that led to the shaded cul de sac when he ran into her. She was not one of those ordinary neighbors. No smile rest upon this gut wrenching face that I remember from my

I somehow end up fifteen feet up in a broken fire escape in the alleyway. It’s out of sight and out of reach. The storm still roars above my head. It’s probably going to rain again. I hope it does. I love the smell of fresh rain. It makes me feel clean whenever it rains. I wish the rain could cleanse the entire world and make all the bad, filthy things go away, but it can’t. People have to do that and that takes time and sacrifice.

The cold rain fell down on my body as I involuntarily shiver from the cold wet feeling on my skin. I look around to find myself surrounded by puddles of water and no way out. My breath was visible through the air. I was one of the best days to run in as well as the worst. It was another exciting day at track.