Creative Writing: The Rocky Mountains Of Colorado

The well known Grand Canyon wasn’t always grand. About 6 millions years ago there live a princess called Artemis, she loved a lot of things like hunting, wilderness, and animals. Her kingdom was located in the territory now called, Arizona. She always had her trusty bow and arrow everywhere she went. She hunted so much that she would bring extra animals to feed the poor. But her father didn’t like that, he was selfish and forbade her to feed the poor anymore. He wanted her daughter to be normal, like wear dresses, have proper manners, and be quiet like every princess should be. She didn’t like that, her passion was to hunt, and possibly become a warrior with her true love. The fault with that dream she had no true love.

It was March 21st, 1765 and everything in the colony of South Carolina was as usual. I was walking back from the main store in the middle of town, I had gone to the store for some flour. I got home and helped my mother with dinner. The Seven Years War had ended a few years ago and the colonies are still recovering. The British Crown has put the sugar and currency acts on us but there are no real disruptions here.

"Wake up, partners," the trail boss, James called. I sleepily looked up , shivered, and saw I was the only one not up. "Here," James said, giving me the horses' bridles and saddles. "Take these and get the horses ready. We have a long day today." I groaned in reply and set up the horses for the day's long drag. I was the horse wrangler and this was my everyday job but I still couldn't get use to the idea of waking up before the sun and working. We drove the cattle into open plains against the winter's cold wrath.

Grand Teton National Park is wonderful to visit any time of year, but Fall is my favorite. Autumn brings many wonderful things to the Tetons, but one thing it takes away are the large crowds of summer. Whew!

The driver, Cecilia Blair, of vehicle 1 was traveling north through the intersection of N. State St. and Flint St. when she had a collision with vehicle 2. The driver, Jacqueline Muir, of vehicle 2 was heading west on Flint St. when she was struck by vehicle 1.

After a long mountainous drive, I arrived at my destination to embrace one of nature’s wonders in the Great Smokey Mountain National Park, Abram Falls Trail. Upon departing the car, a cool crisp breeze brushed my face and the aroma of bacon lingered in the early morning air from the neighboring campground. The narrow rocky footpath looked like a tedious adventure, however a gorgeous, vibrant array of red, purple, orange, and yellow wildflowers blossoming at the entrance made the trail alluring. Navigating the rocky, uneven terrain required sturdy footing, but the quiet stillness created a peaceful relaxing atmosphere. The lush pine-oak forest formed a green canopy of shelter above the trail, offering welcome cool shade, as vivid sunlight filtered through the foliage. A sweet honey fragrance permeated the air, as a stunning scene displayed a cluster of purple and pure white

Reflections of the foliage are visible in the lake on my left, and behind that chairlifts can be seen waiting for the first snow to fall to begin their busy work of the winter. Small houses begin to appear, as well as family-owned ski shops, quaint motels, and Munroe’s Family Restaurant as I travel further down the road. Lining the sides of the road are hundreds of evergreens and maple trees, leading me towards the mountains in the distance. The mountains are topped with white fluffy clouds, that in a few months will be showering the pinnacles with

It was August of 1829 in Mississippi. Men were harvesting corn and beans. The smell of the Choctaw own acorn bread filled the air. All the children were prancing about, playing with friends, shooting squirrels with their little toy bows, and wrestling for the last bite of jerky. All but one child. That lonely little boy’s name was Koi. Koi never got to play with the other Choctaw boys, as he had to prepare to become chief.

In our brochure, the Mount Willard trail’s level read moderate and Jason glanced up from the page and offered a warning.

It was my first day of college and I rushed through the campus of Colorado Mesa University to get to my first class. Even though I was in a hurry, I couldn’t help but notice how lush and green the grass was and how clean everything looked. I began to slow my pace as I found my attention captivated by the campus around me. The buildings looked new, the benches looked clean, the grass wasn’t brown and dry. Everything seemed so organized and well maintained, unlike my high school. After several minutes I made it to my first class and realized that slowing down to look around the campus made me even more late than I already was. I stood outside the door for a few minutes because I was so embarrassed to go in, fearing

I layed back, kicked my feet up, and looked up at the sun trying to break through the leaves of the enormous Oak trees. There is one place I always end up when I want to escape from the rest of the world: Pokagon State Park.

War is unforgiving. He’s seen the bodies scattered around the fields, hastily buried in shallow graves before they begin to fester and rot. He’s seen them shot down before him, bodies hitting the ground and sinking into the mud- whether friend or foe, it matters not. They’ll all die here in the end. All he can do is wait it out, pray to survive until at least this war is over, and return home to a life of suppressing the memories and forgetting the images of men wiped out and dying, forgotten, in these turgid pits of death.

Sunlight leaked from the small hole in the wall. Unlike the ridiculously good weather, ear piercing- screaming, devastated crying and wicked laughter caused goosebumps on Soon-Young’s arms. She lazily rubbed her eyes. Her whole body felt sore- her muscles ached painfully each time she attempted to stand up. Soon-Young blinked her eyes. She wished that she was experiencing a vivid hallucination after what she saw. She realized she wasn’t in home.

The streets of South Bellevue are some to never be forgotten. The neighborhood is filled with the joyous laughter of children and the archaic wisdom of the elderly. It is one of the few amicable communities among the busy city. Bellevue shields it’s people like a mom who graciously protects her young from the dangers of the outside world. Bellevue is a wonderful neighborhood with a variety of individual experiences.

A blue house, red shutters, and a white picket fence with a border collie. Three kids are running around in the front lawn up on a hilltop. That is what the American dream is right? The American dream is truly in the eye of the beholder. One might think that the American dream is an apartment in downtown Los Angeles, but others might want the smell of fresh cut grass in a small suburb. It’s whatever the person who is working for it wants it to be. As we can see in the play, all of the main characters might be striving for an American dream, but none of them are striving for their same American dream.