Hume Lake Cristian Camp Creative Writing

"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.

As the essay continues, White notices more and more differences from the lake he remembered as a child. The calmness of the lake and its surrounding forestry is still intact, but

There was a sense of impeding doom that turned my stomach. Although I couldn't bear to look at the mask I held outreach to you, my eyes were tempted to look to you. I side-swiped a glance at you before you took the mask. My eyebrow arched as you looked at me, visibly distraught. My eyes did a double take, and my gaze fell curiously back on you. I sensed a feeling of unease from you, and became immediately confused. “Your master never teach you Torture 101, Mr. Ren?” Although I was mocking you, there was a sense of concern in my voice, as I looked over to the Dug and then back at you. “You look like you've seen a ghos-” Holding out the mask in front of you, I watched you intently as your eyes fixated on the item. My eyes narrowed at that reaction, and suddenly, it made sense to me. Perhaps you had seen a ghost. Fully educated in the many various connections within the Force, I wondered if in this moment you had seen anything. If in this moment, his darkness had fallen on you. I pondered the horrors you had witnessed... and if any one of those horrors was my own. I wondered if it was pain you experienced, and even... if that pain was my own.

This is my attempt at depicting the beauty of Lake Cunningham. Although not an accurate representation, the artwork still closely resembles the park, as it was inspired by the memories I had at Lake Cunningham as a child. As a child, I would often hike along the trail, run around the grass, or skip stones across the lake. These are memories that I cherish and I hope that other children will also have to chance to do the same. My park matters because living in a technological driven society, this is the closest thing we to nature. The scenery at Lake Cunningham could help soothe our minds and improve our mental health as it it can help us de-stress. Lake Cunning has a lot to offer and had been around for decades, thus we must help preserve

Fish swim around in a swirl of color without even realizing the supremacy of their outer appearance. I would imagine they’re smiling underneath that glassy blanket they live in. The air is always crisp and full of natural purity with just a wisp of campfire smoke every now and then. Pine trees season the scenery with fresh bursts of forest green and their famous musky scent. When the sun starts to go down and the remaining light hits the water, it looks like a rainbow of watercolors spilled ever so gently onto the surface and you’re heart skips a beat from the age old beauty of it all. At that very moment, it makes me feel like nothing bad could ever come near me and whatever shall happen thus far, I can still depend on the sun to make it’s breathtaking decent into the night. Everything at Jordan Lake has always been profound for me, simply because it’s been an outlet that has always been there for my entire life. It is not only a symbol of the hardships I was able to overcome throughout my life with silent contemplation and rounded logical thinking but a reminder to stay humble and appreciate the people I have been gifted with as a support

E.B. White vividly uses imagery throughout the essay in order to illustrate the lake during his visit. His imagery shows how he cannot let go of the past just yet and accept the new changes made to the lake. His description of the cabin based on his five senses helps establish his focus on the specifics of his memories. His recollection of when the lake was “cool and motionless” and the “bedroom smelled of the lumber it was made of” comes to his mind when visiting the cabin again. The description of the lake helps the author reestablish his memories of the lake and helps his need to know that the lake has not altered. White wants to continue to hold on to his memories while visiting the lake with his son. Making the comparisons

We finally reached Alcove Springs! It was quite the sight, with all the trees and water. Everyone is happy here, we like to sing and play music on our instruments at night. We go to bed in good spirits and I'm happy to see that my boys have adjusted to the trip more than before. There is a huge problem here though, mosquitos. They have been getting in all of our food and getting bit by them terrible. We have tried to put mud on ourselves so that they wouldn't bite, but it dries our skin out really bad. It has been two days since we have got here and we all seem to be fed up with it. We left this morning.

We just got to beautiful Whitman Mission, wait well, I thought beautiful. There are a lot of burned down buildings here and I thought that is was our final stretch to load ourselves on supplies, but there is nothing here besides one family and burned down buildings. My wagon train and I go to talk to them and we find out that the, Cayuse tribe of Indians and burnt down all the buildings and raided everyone, they came right on the day that it was happening and they also had planned on getting supplies they were completely out and still are, they have been starving there for a little over 3 days so my wagon train and I had felt really bad and gave them some supplies. We felt bad for them, but it was a huge mistake to do that now because everyone.

An unmodified, relaxing resort that changes everyone blessed enough to know of this wonderful lake. A place with no worries, in the deep northern Wisconsin wood, with a clear spring-fed body living in the middle that sustains the rest of the life in this small piece of Mid-Western paradise. The smell of your next meal emitting from the blindingly white building that constantly stares at the small Lake Clare, with the eagles and osprey floating above it. You can hear the lagoon lapping against the shore as you reflect on life and unwind from your troubles and worries. The lake takes everyone back to the past when they contained less days under their belt and reminds them of the days they stood by their side. Along the lakeside lays simple,

The wind was roaring as it led every strand of hair on my head in an intricate dance in every direction. The pleasant mixture of fish and salt drove me closer to the water’s edge where the lake’s opaque blue surface shimmered from the sun’s reflection. Waves crashed onto the shoreline slapping and dragging the sand further into the water. Canoes lined up across the shore begging to be paddled in the water. The red canoe was the one that caught my eye. So simple yet so powerful. Nothing sounds more comforting than being out on the water with your best friend and only a paddle, and a life vest. Little did I know that red canoe would turn out to be my most daunting obstacle.

Heart pounding out of control, hands trembling pooling with sweat, legs wobbling like Jello. Looking up, I’m in a familiar airport. In my hand is a pass to pure paradise and I just can’t hold in the exhilarating excitement. The words “Hawaii here I come” burst out of me like I’d been waiting my whole life and many more to say that. I would be in Kona International Airport in no time. Well, eight in a half hours to be exact, but who’s counting.

I awoke to my pounding head and had to force myself to stay still. Slowly I was able to think and remember what had happened. I was lying down on the ground, I could feel the scratchy grass beneath me as well as a sharp pebble digging into my back. But I wasn't, I noted, tied up. I could hear horses snorting and grazing near me, and men talking, too quietly to make out exactly what was said.

My first time at the lake I can remember it like it was yesterday. It had a teardrop-silver color to it, and from where I was standing I couldn’t see anything but miles and miles of water. As if it never ended. I could feel the wind as it blew my new hair do, and caressed my cheekbones. The air smelled of fresh water and the sand was soft between my toes. The scene was magnificent, and the only sound was birds chirping from afar. I think back to the smell of the fresh cut grass and the way the sun was shining bright in the clear blue sky. I remember running to the water bending down to take a sip, it was beautiful I just knew it had to taste as good as it looked. Most of all I can remember it being relaxing and beautiful, and I couldn’t wait to get started on our first weekend at the lake with my family.