Descriptive Essay On Summer And Winter

Bullies can hurt someone with more than just there physical actions. Words can also be used by bullies to hurt someone. The short story “All Summer in a Day” and the picture “Pointing Fingers” support the theme that bullies can use words and actions to hurt someone. In life, you will face bullies of all short

For example, the summer session, in comparison to the winter session, is a symbolic interpretation of a separate peace. The summer has an easygoing, relaxed environment with indulgent teachers. Teachers who are capable of laughing off or excusing careless and wild behaviors. “I think we reminded them of what peace was like, we boys of sixteen.” Gene muses that the boys being untouched by the war is what allows the teachers to be so tolerant. The students were “a sign of the life the war was fought to preserve.” When Finny falls and breaks his leg, it marks a literal and symbolic end to the summer session. As Gene puts it, “Peace had deserted Devon.” What took its place was an onslaught of strict rules and talk of war and enlisting. By using

David Thoreau’s serious tone emphasizes the pleasure of living in the wilderness and observing nature. Thoreau’s serious and calm tone reflects on his time in nature; he chronicles his routine, his daily chores, and he connects this lifestyle to his own philosophy of life. He depicted nature in a positive tone, he had good things to say about both the phases of the day and the seasons of the year. He described the morning, “the most memorable season of the day”

On this particular day, the area was in total silence. If a student was typing up a document, everyone can hear this subtle sound. I saw all the desks were taken by some students doing various things such as: doing

It’s the end of the school day. I finally breathe and release myself of the stress and the frustration of a normal school day. I sit on the benches outside and wait for my ride. With technology gone and no people to talk to, I just sit still. The evergreen trees gently move in some of the final gusts of the summer breeze. And as I’m looking at life’s beauty and as thoughts swim through my brain, I become frightened. Because, I have never thought of life, as a whole, so profoundly. It transforms into satisfaction. Without distractions, I sit with my thoughts and world’s alluring nature. As I relive this moment in my mind, I can’t help but think of Henry David Thoreau. How he just sometimes sat and took in everything, and absorbed everything

As you concentrate on your breathing you may notice some sounds from outside,… let them disperse,

     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

“Simple recipes” by Madeleine Thien, and “The Closing Down of Summer” by Allister MacLeod both focus on the struggles the characters undergo due to cultural gaps, or being away from home from work, creating the sense of isolation or alienation within their families. The impression of isolation found in the text is generated from the situational behaviours found in the actions, thoughts, or exchange of language in the characters. For Macleod focuses on how his protagonist uses ancestral rituals to find individual fulfillment on the account of his work occupation deteriorating his connection with family. Whereas Thiens story demonstrates how the uses of ritualistic behaviour has created a tension between the different social identities of oriental

Sound is apart of our everyday lives. Regardless of if it's the sound of a leaking water faucet, the tapping of a pencil or even the whistling of wind, we’re surrounded by the physics of sound at all times. Sound waves come in various

What do you think when you hear sound? Do you think of the old tale that says if a tree falls in the woods and no one is around to hear it, does it make any noise? Or do not question it and move on with life. Believe it or not sound is everywhere. Sound works in many different ways, to fully understand it, let's break it down into three main pieces. First of all sound is energy, next sound can change, Lastly to hear and to understand are two different things.

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.

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

It was a gorgeous summer day. the sun was shining, the birds were singing, and the world was at peace on the seemingly carefree sunday afternoon. church had just ended and the children ran fast and free ready to play. They ran two and twelve towards the town’s lake to go swimming, in order to ward off the heat of the noon sun. They stampeded through town bumping over numerous people and even one another to reach the cool blue waves. The menacing multitude took a sharp turn from the street to an old dusty road. The trees shook in the evening breeze and swayed slightly further when the children hurried by. Dust faintly clouded out the light that poured over the path. Finally they reached the dock and began to take off and swap clothes. The boys took off their shirts and pants and swam in their underwear, while the girls chose to go behind some nearby bushes.and exchange out their attire. When everyone was in they started to splash one another while laughing and shouting. A few of them dived under the water to search for fish and other sea life. When they came back, up two of them had seaweed, one held a starfish, and two others had a crab holding it by both sides. It was getting a little later in the day, but the kids were not quite yet ready to leave their fun to rest. They decided to play hide and seek even though the sun was beginning to make its descent behind the green curtains that were the distant hills. One child counted while everyone hid and waited. As he counted out

Misty dew covers the entire surface of the field. The yellowing corn stalks stand erect and proud until my grandpas tractor comes to end their growth. Autumn slowly weaves its way in and leaves a stain of brilliant color in its wake. Not everyone enjoys such colors, but when you take a second to step outside your doorstep, and look at all the wonders that surround you, you’d be surprised at how marvelous the world can truly be. To me, Autumn is a time for relishing in the colors. Soaking in the oranges and reds while sitting by a warm fire. It’s a time for remembering that everything does end, but it does not have to end in the dreadful way we think it will. Autumn is a time for the closeness of others to keep out the chill of the morning and the starry-eyed darkness of the night.

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