Personal Narrative: Red Lake Ontario

The two men lay in the snow, listening to the branches creak in the forest. Silence. A crow cawed in the distance, interrupting the calm only for a second. As the two men’s fate approached, they began to perceive things that they had never experienced before. All the crackling, shuffling, and whistling became crystal clear to them, and they wondered how they had never heard these sounds before. Little shimmers and sparkles caught their eyes as if to tell them to enjoy their last moments in this world. Frost glittered in the slivery moonlight, cascading upon them through an opening in the dense canopy

Most nights Wenatchee River looked eerily beautiful when the fog rolled over the fiery trees, but that night the mist clung uncomfortably to my skin and skewed the forest around me. I had to rely on the distant sound of chaotic whispers and a faint warm glow ahead of me. The

The drive up was long and boring, filled with the sounds of your gentle snores as you slept next to me. After what seemed like forever, we finally arrived at our hotel in Eagle River. The lake was a perfect blue, the sand soft between our toes. You tried to teach me how to skip rocks, but no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t do it like you. That night we couldn’t sleep, and you convinced me to go out on the beach for a walk under the stars.

I was sitting in the passenger seat of a Polaris Ranger, with my friends, having the time of my life. Ray driving, me in the passenger seat, and Cooper sitting in the back. We had been riding around for about 2 hours in the backwoods of the McGinty’s property. The sun was setting in the westward sky. I could just barely see it through the abundance of trees.

Bone chilled wintry night of October seventh oak leaf's been taken in the whirling north wind. Where stagnant street lights displayed an evil glitch, Stood a woman with hair color as the night moon. Lip color of a lover's rose. Skin a pleasant olive tone, eyes of topaz. She had often been seen on the most unusual hours, as she would casually hum the most beautiful tune which some would say as a sound of an angel singing.

In the Olympic Peninsula of northwest Washington State, a small town named Forks exists under a near-constant cover of clouds. It rains on this inconsequential town more than any other place in the United States of America. It was from this town and its gloomy, omnipresent shade that my mother escaped with me when I was only a few months old. It was in this town that I'd been compelled to spend a month every summer until I was fourteen. That was the year I finally put my foot down; these past three summers, my dad, Charlie, vacationed with me in California for two weeks instead.

Ever since I was young I can remember going out on winter mornings to feed the cattle. On mornings like these that open a new window into the beauty of the land I’ve lived on my entire life. The morning starts off with the quiet rumble of the Chevrolet engine, as it warms up and the faint sound of birds chirping in the distance. As I walk out of my house, the cool, crisp air strikes my face and I’m fully awake, ready to start the morning. I head off into the snowy white desert and I begin to hear the frozen stems of grass snapping in two as we drive over.

The bright streetlights cast a yellow pool of light over the snow bitten streets as the gentle ice capped rivers flowed through the landscape of wales, carrying December memories of laughter and song in the rippled blue. Excitement and joy spread through the town like a wildfire as I put my head against the window, watching absent mildly as the snow obliquely fell to the floor.

In a winter morning bottle lake forest is an alluring place to be in. Thin rays of sun infiltrate the atmosphere and kisses down on the ground. Gradually ablating the frozen puddles. A heavy dew had fallen. The frozen dew makes the wild berry bushes angle to the ground, worshipping mother nature.

“Are we there yet”I said as we just left Seymour and there I knew that we were trapped in the car for a long time in fact like 2 hours. I was a bright summer day and today my family was all up early packing and getting in the car because we still had to pick up my brothers friends so as we left the driveway my family and I kept bouncing up and down from the end of the driveway as we left and there I knew that today was the day where it was time to go to six flags.When we finally had everyone in the car and we were off to six flags.The first city we passed was Appleton and that's when we just watched the cars go by the car we were driving in and all of us got kinda car sick and it was bad we all had headaches before you knew it everyone of us

Sweltering heat of summer beats Under the blue sky wide. Many a day is passed away Many taken in stride. Early light pushes back the night

Christopher's boots shuffled with ease as he walked out of the convenience store, into the snow as he leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette. As smoke filtered through the air and into the cold December snow-filled sky, which led to a landscape of blue; iridescent blue, that even the white refused to fade into, memories of a familiar set of eyes came to mind. They often did.

It was still very early – that almost magical dawn time when the sun hasn't quite peeked over the horizon, yet the sky is no longer dark but pale purple, faint pink and orange fire. Isolated as I was, there was no radio to distract me, no one to wave at in passing; only an aggravated chewing sound as the gravel met tread, punctuated by pops and clanks as larger stones were hurled against my cars frame and undercarriage. Lazy, bovine lumps dotted the pastures to either side of the road, lowing to announce my passage, then becoming obscured by dust as I blew by. There was something allegorical about that red cloud, allowing me to see everything ahead, and nothing behind. It was a mirrored reminder of how things from my past were obscuring the path I was trying to find for myself in life.

The skyline resembled mountains of rainbow sherbet. For a moment, I imagined scooping the orange, raspberry, and lemon-lime mixture with an oversized spoon. Just by looking at the sky, I felt as if I could almost taste these flavors in my mouth, which gave me a strange satisfaction. A gust of warm air abruptly interrupted my daydream to welcome me to Cocoa Beach properly. These engulfing winds danced all around me before hugging my body completely and knocking me off-balance. All around me, I could see multiple different scenes: couples lying next to each other exchanging loving gazes, children building sand castles and running about screaming, friends playing volleyball, and parents atop the boardwalk enjoying alcoholic beverages as well

It’s as bright as the sun but as cold as the moon. The light is intensified by the snow. The snow is thick. It consumes the trees, the ground, and my eyes. The only thing that sticks out from the snow is the brown bark of the trees, and the shadows of the branches. The grass on the ground looks more like icicles sticking up from the ground. Everything is blanketed by snow. The sky has no emotion, its grey and monotone. It gives a sense of loneliness and silence. There is no life to be found, no green plant life, no people or animals. The absence of life brings about sadness, but it also brings tranquility and peace. There is no conflict in this image, there is nothing in this image except the snow. The image wants to take away my happiness and replace it with a calm, cold, emptiness.