Descriptive Essay About Sunsets

Paul Newman once said, “People stay married because they want to, not because the doors are locked” (74). There is no such thing as the perfect relationship, however, being involved in a healthy relationship is essential for a person to feel valued, safe, and happy. Unfortunately, in the situation of Kelly Sundberg’s personal essay “It Will Look Like a Sunset,” and Kate Chopin’s short story “The Story of An Hour,” include extreme examples of unhealthy relationships. The essay “It Will Look Like a Sunset,” shares painful experiences of Sundberg’s physical and emotional abusive relationship with her husband Caleb, while “The Story of an Hour,” shares a rare reaction of a married woman, Louise Mallard, who explores her emotions cautiously when hearing about the death of her husband. Each woman faces their own prison created by their husbands. The two marriages represent the figurative meaning of doors being locked in a marriage. Both pieces of literature convey the theme of confinement by using the literary devices of foreshadowing, imagery, and conflict.

Some nights the sky wept stars that quickly floated and disappeared into the darkness before our wishes could meet them. Under these stars and sky I used to hear stories, but now it seemed as if it was the sky that was telling us a story as its stars fell, violently colliding with each other. The moon hid behind clouds to avoid seeing what was happening” (Beah 80).

I was a passenger in the backseat of our family vehicle. The small bumps in the pavement lulled me to a place of perfect repose. As we looked outside our windows we could see the sky painting a magnificent show for us. The sun was going down, but the heavens were brighter and more astounding than I had ever seen them before. It was as if someone had set the clouds alight with raging wildfires and splashes of pink and purple scattered about. I never wanted it to end, but the sky had other plans. The masterpiece before us began to recede into darkness as the nighttime engulfed the sun and put daytime to

“For the first time on the expedition the vista was primarily sky rather than earth. Herds of puffy cumulus raced beneath the sun, imprinting the landscape with a shifting matrix of shadow and blinding light.”

Lewis Grassic Gibbons Sunset Song contains two characters, Chris and Ewan, whose relationship deteriorates throughout the novel. The writer shows this deterioration through the various techniques that he employs. Choose a novel in which the relationship between two characters deteriorates. Explain the reasons for this and while assessing the part each character plays in the deterioration. Make it clear where your sympathies lie.

If you ever get a chance to visit Chaco Canyon National Monument in New Mexico, you should take the time to just stand in the desert and listen. The silence in this place is physical; you can feel it surround you. This is a silence with depth and layers that are unbroken even by the wind, which moves through emptiness and speaks only in occasional sighs through the canyons. The air itself is very clear—the lack of humidity gives the cliffs and buttes sharp lines, and the colors of the earth, though muted, stand in stark relief to the blueness of the sky. Night comes gradually to this place. The height and dryness of the air allows the stars to appear before the sun has set—creating an odd

The stars are bright and radiant-- their numbers are vast beyond all imagination. They shine in the dark sky, like billions of little lights hanging from nonexistent threads. It is a reality that not many people stop to admire. In the city people sink down into their couches at night and drift away, eventually, to the slumber that most people crave. But the stars, shining endlessly, are there night after night, in the rain and even in the snow. If you just stop for a moment, on a night with no clouds, and look up, you will see this magnificent

I turned my head to see the night sky. The ocean was so calm that it appeared as though a mural of stars were in front of me, as though I could leap forward into the black blanket of white sparkles. A star that shined yellow grew bigger as time went on. I imagined it was a firefly floating over the ocean just a short distance away. Oddly enough the firefly was moving closer to me somehow. The firefly started to appear as a small cat walking down from the sky.

“That Evening Sun” by William Faulkner is a good example of a great emotional turmoil transferred directly to the readers through the words of a narrator who does not seem to grasp the severity of the turmoil. It is a story of an African American laundress who lives in the fear of her common-law husband Jesus who suspects her of carrying a white man's child in her womb and seems hell bent on killing her.

The sunlight tinting the clouds with pink and golden hues reminding me of a Maxwell Parish painting I had once owned. There was a heavy fog and mist coming in off the Pacific Ocean into the San Francisco Bay I noticed that the fog clung to the bottom of the Golden Gate Bridge. Sounds of gulls screeching and fog horns moaning, issuing warning of possible danger are coming in off the bay overwhelmed my senses. I did not take the time to breath in this wondrous moment as I should have. It is only now though this reflection that I appreciate the beauty. I had a goal, a destination. I was a force of nature not to be deterred. So onward north I traveled passing monumental sites with a lackadaisical attitude. Not understanding that I needed to breath in, slowdown and enjoy the singular experience of the once in lifetime moments that were flying past me as I raced down the

Magnificent, heavenly light filters through the wispy clouds, signifying a new day. The thin clouds slowly drift apart, presenting a beautiful sky beneath. Speaking out to me, the sky seems to know every one of my thoughts, my dreams, my darkest fears. The sky is but a canvas of light, creating a new picture within seconds. Weaving a story through the delicate clouds, the picture grows beyond the expanse of sky. The colors splay before me, painfully beautiful and simple. Pink hues morph into vibrant purples as they blend with the beautiful blues. The glittering stretch of sea shines before my eyes. With every new wave, the light from above whispers promises of riches and sparkling diamonds. The light breeze that kisses the sea sends the twinkling light back into the air above.

     In Ernest Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises, Jake Barnes is a lost man who wastes his life on drinking. Towards the beginning of the book Robert Cohn asks Jake, “Don’t you ever get the feeling that all your life is going by and you’re not taking advantage of it? Do you realize that you’ve lived nearly half the time you have to live already?” Jake weakly answers, “Yes, every once in a while.” The book focuses on the dissolution of the post-war generation and how they cannot find their place in life. Jake is an example of a person who had the freedom to choose his place but chose poorly.

In That Evening Sun, William Faulkner approaches the story through an anecdotal style that gives meaning to the story. The narrator uses the anecdote that happened to him to convey the story’s underlying meaning that people are restricted by social class and race, not realizing this meaning himself at the time. The era of racism pertains to the meaning of the story, discussing the aversion of southern white people to help those different from them, focusing on the restrictions that society has placed on social class and race separation and the desire to maintain the division.

The doorbell rang. sky dragged her feet to the door, thinking it was her takeout when she opened the door all that was there was a small box and an envelope addressed to her. She grabbed the things and went off to her room. she began to open the letter, she noticed that there was no key for the box just a note and a piece of gum. Sky when on and tried to pry the box open but all she could see through the cracks were bright blue lights. Sky went off and grabbed the small note and began to read it, Dear, sky We are the no faces, we chose you out of millions of people, if someone is chosen from us it's a great one if you would like to see us please chew the gum

The sunset was not spectacular that day. The vivid ruby and tangerine streaks that so often caressed the blue brow of the sky were sleeping, hidden behind the heavy mists. There are some days when the sunlight seems to dance, to weave and frolic with tongues of fire between the blades of grass. Not on that day. That evening, the yellow light was sickly. It diffused softly through the gray curtains with a shrouded light that just failed to illuminate. High up in the treetops, the leaves swayed, but on the ground, the grass was silent, limp and unmoving. The sun set and the earth waited.