Personal Narrative: A Place

“James,” he says. We begin walking where there is a bundle of people and he looks concerned. “How about I send you to the sheriff’s station? They will surely help you out,” he says. “If it will help,” I say. The chirping of birds seems to follow me, it triggers a memory of home. When Mama and I would take short walks through the meadow behind our home. Whistling along with the bird's melody is what we did. Back then, I had no worries at all. Now, all I have is worries.

As Cole stared at the tiny bodies, sadness flooded through him. The sparrows were so frail, helpless, and innocent. They hadn’t deserved to die. Then again, what right did they have to live? This haunted Cole. Did the birds’ insignificant little existences have any meaning at all? Or did his (82)?

Eventually, a night after sunset, thunder storm neighed from the west as if it was going to rain; usually, swallow hovered around the sky and most kid camped in the black hill were stoning on the arboreal, which Black elk describes the horrible outcome in a more precise manner. Black elk says when he wanted to stone at one of the thunder swallows, he felt queered and his hand hurts, then he remembered one of his visions from the grandfather, when the second grandfather gave him an eagle wing and opined ‘’this is the eagle of the sky; you must be like a relative to the birds.’’

In 2025, I will be twenty-nine years old and hopefully married. I will be married to my significant other of ten years Earnest Palmer III, who is a dentist. I would have been recently graduating with a bachelor’s in Culinary Arts and trying to plan to open my own restaurant, BubbaD’s Eateries. Knowing my big headed husband of mine, I probably had a baby then and trying to have another baby. Hopefully, by then Earnest will get rid of the idea naming our son, King. We will be living in the suburbs near New York City but working in the city. Being a woman with great memory, I probably wrote a memoir about my crazy life and trying to sell it to a publisher. If none of the publishers wants to publish my memoir, I will probably sell it the Lifetime

The soft, waterlogged dirt pushed its way between my toes whilst I marched on along the river as it coursed bend after bend. The flexed limbs of oak and hemlock trees hugged each other in an elongated stretch to eternity. Wind rustled against the copse. A kestrel landed on a branch in fair proximity to me. I had seen this bird before. He was a small, rotund fellow with a bright blue head and contrasting tan body. Unlike most of his brothers and sisters who had deep blue tips on the ends of their beaks, his was a solid yellow.

Walking away from everything you once knew and starting over is never a picnic. Leaving Iraq, and moving to America has impacted my life more than anything. I was only 4 years old at that time, and the only English I spoke was “excuse me, water please.” My family and I did not know it then, but our lives were going to change; we would become “Americanized”. Learning English was one of the massive changes that occurred, the way I dressed (culture), and even the way I had power to go to school and educate myself.

At the bird’s appearance and apparent vocal articulation, he is at first impressed, then saddened. He compares this evening visitor as only another friend which will soon depart, just as “other friends have flown before” (58). But the raven again echoes quite aptly his one-word vocabulary, thus leading the man on to think more deeply about the possibilities that exist at this juncture. Somewhere deep inside him, he has realized that it doesn’t matter what question he poses, the bird will respond the same.

Throughout the conversation, Susan did not inform me that the home was still in First Look and not open to investors at this time. Susan did not highlight any features of the home, nor did she talk about the neighborhood or the surrounding area. When asked, Susan paused to reference the property file and stated, "In looking at the pictures it appears that it needs interior paint, carpet, appliances, and a few windows, which the previous seller must have taken." She stated, "I don't know why they have to remove things from the homes." I asked, "Do you have offers?" She paused to check the property file and answered, "No offers." I asked, "Is the property behind the home farmland?" She paused to reference the property file and replied, "It appears

Moving, although natural, is not easy to most people. How many things are involved when you have to leave your school and friends behind to go to a place totally unfamiliar where anything could go wrong? For me, more than I could count since my family decided to move four thousands miles away.

Poet Robert Penn Warren in his 2006 piece titled “Evening Hawk” employs specific words and phrases to demonstrate the majestic nature of the hawk, as well as the rich history that the bird symbolizes. The hawk is viewed as this phenomenal being, and with it comes a powerful and initially inspiring mood that the narrator of the poem experiences with being able to witness its flight and all that it ultimately delineates. A representation of hope versus despair remains the focal element of the theme as each scenery-related aspect conveys one of the two obverse ideals. The first stanza opens upon a climatic buildup, with the reader anticipating what it arriving.

After having worked at five different places in Seattle with resident flocks, the researchers recorded the bird’s reaction when they walked wearing different rubber masks. One of the masks was “Cheney” which was neutral and the other was the “Caveman” mask was marked as dangerous. The researchers wearing caveman masks went around with net launcher capturing seven to fifteen crows. Then, for about three years, the researches went on wearing the masking and recording the crow’s reaction. The crow’s did recognize the caveman mask and were upset when they saw people wearing it.

The Crow, fed up with itself trying to please others, to end up having its efforts go to waste, started crying. It cried, and shrieked, and cawed. It flew to many trees, calling for attention. It cried at others, wondering why it was ignored, unnoticed, disregarded, and brushed aside. The Crow was kind, fun, smart, and useful, so why was it always set aside?

Six consecutive second place, Science Fair trophies sit in the deepest, darkest, most isolated place in my house... my closet. Upon entering the closet, I’m automatically overwhelmed with a horrifying stench, a mixture of plastic, metal, and disappointment, also known as second place. Once the scent enters the nasal cavity, it immediately calls war upon the cerebellum, attacking strongly and injuring the motor cortex, thus creating a chill to run through my body, leaving me powerless and without words. After the chill, next follows the noise. Mockingly congratulates me, whispering “great job, you almost had it,” oh the humanity; “second place” repeatedly echoes in my ear until I escape the closet.

The gps says “ arrived “ and we are ready for the turn up. As we are looking for a place to park we come to conclusion that there are not any because there were so many cars. There are cars that are beaten up badly. Some cars have no hoods , some cars rear-view mirror are hanging as if someone just drove by and took it off. Finally I spot the perfect place to park and I hear a deep voice yell at me and say “ You might want to park on up the curbs some more because these people around here can’t drive .” I look up and see it was tall lady directing me and thought it was hilarious but I still took her advice. My girls and I hop out the car and head walking down to the event. There was extremly loud music that you could hear even if you were

He wonders why the birds are just waiting in the sky as if they are waiting for a command, why they are restless, and he thinks it is strange that they are little birds and they are the type of the birds that normally keep to their own territory and don’t have a history of attacking people . When he looks out toward the coast, he sees the birds flocking in his direction and he believes that for some odd reason, they are going to come down to the