Faint memories of visiting my motherland linger in my thoughts and dreams. My visit to Bangladesh was filled with celebrations, feasts, adventures, and treacherous journeys! Many of these memories have been forgotten for several years. Faces and locations lost in my head. Yet, it was on one of these perilous journeys that I had discovered a treasure so grand, that it has been embedded in my thoughts ever since. A treasure so grand that it couldn’t be found anywhere else. A treasure so valuable that it could never be taken elsewhere to be cherished forever.
My breath was frozen in the air as a dead silence surrounded me. A light fog covered the muddy trail since I began my hike. The drizzling rain only added to the gloomy and haggard feeling. My boots were pressed against the ground, slowly sinking into the damp earth. The faint knocking of bamboo could be heard growing louder. Someone or something was approaching me. Being the curious and careless child I was, I left the trail to approach the patch of bamboo. The rugged terrain of the trail pulled at my sore feet, and the wind whistled and whispered in my ears, as it was warning me not to leave. But, I continued to trudge forward into the unknown. The bamboo was bendy enough for my weak arms to push as I approached the knocking noise. Slowly I took cautious steps to avoid the broken and fallen pieces of bamboo scattered across the ground. As I was about to take my next step, a person’s foot came slamming down into the ground! I stumbled backward, crashing onto the ground! Suddenly, a figure broke through the cluster of bamboo.
As I looked up, out stepped a figure familiar to me. It was my father! His confusion expression became that of relief as he helped up from the ground. He told me to follow him back to the trail he was on. My dad and I cut through the stalks of bamboo once again until we reached a trail similar to previous. We continued to follow the trail was a maze of lush greenery and foliage. The trail twisted and curved. It was unknown to me, yet so familiar to my dad, I thought as I continued hiking in amazement. Trees towered over us as the skyscrapers in the city would. The trees were castles of wood protecting a hidden treasure. Flowers and
My heart pounded as my feet slammed along the beaten path in the woods. When I was certain I had gained enough ground, I dove under a bush. I began to crawl from the path, the branches tugging on my hair. I smiled as flowers danced across my face.
Recently it has occurred to me, that I am finally free from the shackles of fear and its hold on me, that this might be the end of the trail. Nonetheless, the sense that suffering is chasing me weighs down any notions of comfort or relief, frankly because my valley was once no different than the peak, just as safe and appealing. And so I moved in life, the trail never ended. The same pebbles remained unmoved, the same voices and sounds, everything was the same. Remarkably, the further I climbed, the more my perspective changed drastically, shifting my perception of moments and bonds that I developed with others into everlasting memories. Wounds seem to have healed. Gradually the valley below began resembling a gem with undeniable beauty contradicted
You decided take a hike through the woods you know the area so you not going to get to lost. You head out the door and head for the woods you find a hike trail and follow it. You hear the crunching of leaves under your feet sounds of nature all around you as you continue to go along the trail. You find a trail going up and up as you go up it finally comes to an abrupt end there's a bench you sit on it and look out and see a huge forest. A lush green forest sprawled out in front of you the sun's rays illuminating certain parts of the forest you see trees swaying back and forth from the breeze. It's quite beautiful you stay there until the sun start setting and you realize you have to head back nothing else you can do so you had back. You see
The rain kept on hitting the top of my car as I drove down the old road, like how a woodpecker pecks holes into trees looking for bugs. The town of Tahlequah had really changed since I saw it last about 40 years ago. There were paved roads now and a bigger school. The small shops I remembered were now big Sears and Target stores. Busy people walked on sidewalks trying not to get rained on, and cars drove on, with so many miles to go. As I got farther out and the buildings started to trickle out into countryside, I noticed a new sound that rose above all the rest.
The clearing was quiet, it seemed lifeless. The Salinas River still flowed merrily near the hillside. The water was still warm from the afternoon sun, and still reflected a green hue. On one side of the river, the smooth foothill slopes still curved up to the strong and rocky Gabilan Mountains, and the other side was still lined with trees. The willows and sycamore branches still swung gently in the wind, and the leaves still created a green light within the space. It was totally calm and peaceful… but something was wrong. The air seemed heavier, and the sun seemed dimmer. No animals stirred, and everything seemed to be aware of a deep sadness. Nothing moved save for a small group of men standing around an unmoving figure.
As we started along the trail, I worried about forgotten items and my decision to only bring one extra pair of socks. However, after a while, I became aware of a pair of birds chattering above me and the soft murmur of water trickling down a stream bed. After an hour of walking, the trail starts winding back on itself in a series of switchbacks. The chatter between my family members slows down, as we soon struggled to breathe from exhaustion. Sometimes I was hunched over so far from my load that I would stare at my rubber-toed boots and forget to look up at the majestic trees surrounding me.
We begin on a dark night with wind whistling and crows cawing. It was fall of 2003, Mike and Erin were biking together. Suddenly they see a shadow in the distance and turned their bikes into a scare. Their Spines chilled and faces froze with fright. They fell down the hill that no one ever dares even lay eyes on. Stories told that there was a woman who died from wood chopping a tree that fell on her. Some people say you could even see her ghost. “Mmmm-ike? Are you ok?” Erin mumbled. Mike groaned in much pain. As Erin weakly stood up, He saw something hovering above Mike. “Mike I need you to listen to me” Erin exclaimed. “Don't move” Mike turned around and gasped! Above him was a stick tied to a tree. “Erin, are you messing with me?” Mike complained.
I just ran. Before I knew it, I was out of the trailer and walking back down the trail. That’s when the real fear set in, it’s strange how you feel so open and exposed walking on a trail. The trailer was sitting there it looked almost evil. I turned a corner and it disappeared out of sight. But the feeling of being followed remained. The trail was almost a trench carved in along a steep hill one side it sloped down and you could see a small pond. I began to visualize what could've happened. The different ways it could’ve ended. I wanted to go back and see if someone was really there, but I knew that would be a waste of time. I summed it up in my head as the wind pushing the door open. I still constantly turned back, looking over my shoulder to see if there was some truth to what I thought, if something was actually following me. It was a windy day out and as the wind the blew the trees would creak and crack. Branches fell off and slammed on the ground crashing down and taking other branches with it. The sound was amplified through the quiet and almost sleeping woods. It was strange, there were no animals, no squirrels or chipmunks. The woods were dead. I was still looking over my shoulder every now and again, still startled by what I had experienced. The walk took way longer than it should’ve. It felt like the seconds were minutes and no matter how fast I walked I couldn't keep up with the pace in my mind.
She said to herself scrambling through the forest ever more eager to get to the safety of the neighboring country of Salved. As she broke through the branches of a wild berry tree, partially covering her sent from bloodthirsty Shepherds chasing her, she found herself in a small little clearing about twelve feet across. Sunlight lit the clearing from two parted trees somewhere above, the only lighting in this cursed forest, towards the left of the clearing there was a mossy boulder with a tree growing around the backside. Towards the right there was a single tree branch that seems to existed on its own, pulled down by a perfectly seeming fully ripened red apple. Running down the middle of the clearing was a little stream. But as much as her legs yearned to rest on the boulder and as much as her stomach grumbled and her throat begging to be wet by the cold stream water she knew it was either just her imagination or a trap. Real or not she chose to avoid it running around the outer right side still unsealed by the
After entering the canyon, I saw the light slowly fade as I further immersed myself into this endless waterway. My only company was the sound of the steady, rippling water, and the quiet voices of my friends nearby. I stretched my hand toward the dank, rough wall to get some assurance. As I did so, pebbles from the crumbling structure fell into the water. I felt the cracks in the sandstone that the water had sculpted after years of erosion. My feet slipped over the rocks on the bottom and I sank into the water. The water climbed to my shoulders and the light faded into pure darkness. I felt my heart rate intensify just before I turned a sharp corner. My eyes widened as I saw the first light since I had entered the cave. Three distinct rays of sun slipped through the rocks above and filled the canyon, illuminating the bright orange color of
The sound of the chirping birds awoke me. The smell of the grassy-smelling rain tickled my nose as I pried my heavy eyes open, tired from yesterday’s long day of adventuring. I squirmed out of my cozy sleeping bag, being gentle on my sore back after sleeping on the diamond-hard rock last night. I crawled out of my little compact tent as my stomach growled of hunger. I looked out to the foggy distance where the egg yolk-like sun was rising from behind the bumpy, tree-filled mountains. I gathered my hiking essentials and munched on a protein bar as I started exploring on the wet, slippery trail. Suddenly, I heard a footstep behind me. I turned around, but nothing in particular was there. I kept strolling along, observing the many species wandering
I looked up at the black sky. I hadn't intended to be out this late. The sun had set, and the empty road ahead had no streetlights. I knew I was in for a dark journey home. I had decided that by traveling through the forest would be the quickest way home. Minutes passed, yet it seemed like hours and days. The farther I traveled into the forest, the darker it seemed to get. I was very had to even take a breath due to the stifling air. The only sound familiar to me was the quickening beat of my own heart, which felt as though it was about to come through my chest. I began to whistled to take my mind off the eerie noises I was hearing. In this kind of darkness I was in, it was hard for me to believe that I could be
I gazed up at the mountain now drenched in light red and squinted, trying to keep my eyes open, as the bright sharp light burnt into my eyes. Struggling to keep my eyes open, I finally closed them unable to the pain any longer; I wiped my watery eyes and thought where Samneric’s fire was? There was a rumble inside me, and I looked hopefully at the jungle wondering if I could find Samneric’s fire as well as something to eat. In the morning light the jungle seemed like an old and tattered rug chewed to bits by moths, yet despite this the jungle and the whole island was beautiful shining in the sun’s warmth. I kept on walking as the jungle beckoned me calling me with its beauty. As I passed between the trees, the canopy overhead plunged me into velvet darkness. The only source of light was from the small gaps in the shell of overlapping leaves, where the sun glistened through. Moss and lichen covered the ground in abundance, thriving in this humid atmosphere, and feeding on the eerie green light that managed to penetrate through the ceiling of emerald leaves. The strange green shade and the various knotted pillars made it impossible to see for great distances or to walk about freely.
When arriving at Tumbledown Mountain, I was surrounded by brown and reddish leaves that were scattered on the ground. The trees around me were filled with luscious, vibrant, green leaves that enchanted my eyes. In addition to the leaves and trees, there was a lot of moss growing on tree stumps that looked like a small blanket covering an infant. Wild, white mushrooms were also growing out of the ground, which gave the ground a pop of color. Taking a step out of the car and onto the leaves, sounded like fire crackling at a camp fire. The sound of the leaves made the hairs on my arm stick up and filled my skin with small goose bumps. At first the smell of the woods was unfamiliar, but I soon got used to it and felt at ease. It felt like I was in my own fantasy where I could escape my troubles and focus on each little detail in the woods.
As I left behind the somber forest, I now recognized an appreciation for nature that I did not realize I had. I now knew there was more to nature than just trees and animals, but also I found the