Short Story Of Seashell Bay

The Chesapeake Bay is a 200-mile-long estuary extending from Norfolk, VA to Havre de grace Maryland. On average this bay contains about 68 trillion liters of water. This bay is the largest estuary in North America. It inhabits more than 3,000 species of plants, animals, and fish. “Since the early twentieth century, the Chesapeake Bay has experienced serious environmental degradation. Problems include large reductions in sea grass, reduced amounts of finfish and shellfish (especially oysters and crab), seasonal depletions in dissolved oxygen, and increases in sedimentation.” (Atkins & Anderson, 2003) These changes are brought on by pollution (Eutrophication and Toxic Contamination), development, deforestation, and agriculture. And according

“There was music from my neighbor's house through the summer nights. In his blue gardens men and girls came and went like moths among the whisperings and he champagne and the stars. At high tide in the afternoon I watched his guests diving from the tower of his raft, or taking the sun on the hot sand of his beach while his motor-boats slid the waters of the Sound, drawing aquaplanes over cataracts of foam. On week-ends his Rolls-Royce became an omnibus, bearing parties to and from the city between nine in the morning and long past midnight, while his station wagon scampered like a brisk yellow bug to meet all trains. And on Mondays eight servants, including an extra gardener, toiled all day with

I got into the small car and started it, hoping I was doing the right thing. The rumble of the car was the opposite of calming, as I needed it to be, I was going to help my love-Clyde Barrow. The small car shuddered and then stopped as I pulled up to the jail, I sat in the car thinking before getting out, what if I get caught. I ignored these thoughts and got out of the car. I walked to the back Clyde’s stolen V8 Ford, I popped the trunk hearing the *click* as it opened. I grabbed a handgun and hid it in the pocket hidden by the hem of my dress, the dress immediately felt heavier. My dress sweeping the dirt off the ground, distracted me as I sauntered- to avoid any accusations- towards the door of the jailhouse. I walked in with a bright, welcoming smile- waving at the guards as I stopped at the secretary’s desk.

Their outwardly pristine appearance juxtaposes with the drab, unkempt town with peeling paint and rusty fences, where spousal rape, adultery and paedophilia lie just below the surface. Through this leverage of the ability to transform and astound, Tilly is able to gain ‘information’ to achieve her objective of discovering the truth behind the events of her past. The promise to transform Gertrude into the ‘most striking girl in the room’ and Marigold’s] dress looking ‘better than everyone else’ are the beginnings of the truth being unravelled and ‘rubbish’ revealed.

When Billy finishes settling down and unpacking his belongings in his room, the Landlady requests that he sign her guestbook, stating it is a “law of the land” “‘I’ll leave you now so that you can unpack. But before you go to bed, would you be kind enough to pop into the sitting-room on the ground floor and sign the book? Everyone has to do that because it’s the law of the land, and we don’t want to go breaking any laws at this stage in the proceedings, do we?’” Billy proceeds to sign the book, however, he is startled by a name that strikes the chord. Christopher Mulholland. He ponders and inquires the Landlady if perhaps he was famous, an athlete, or maybe mentioned in the news. Suddenly, it hits him that Mulholland is the Eton schoolboy that obscurely vanished three years ago, about the time when the guestbook was signed “‘Mulholland ... Christopher Mulholland ... wasn’t that the name of the Eton schoolboy who was on a walking-tour through the West Country, and then all of a sudden …’” Nonetheless, the dreadful woman asserts that her Mulholland was not the one described by Mr. Weaver. Lights are flashing at Billy to turn around and leave. Undoubtedly, it is an uninviting sign if your housekeeper for the night is a possible kidnapper. Moreover, she refers to her past guests as if they still are visitors, despite the

Janie and Mrs. Mallard both lead distinctive lives due to their beliefs, environment and health. At an early age Janie married Logan Killicks because of her grandmother’s dying wish (Hurston, 15). Janie soon left Killicks and married Joes Starks a prosperous man who’s desire was to become rich and well known (Hurston, 29). Starks passed away and Janie married a younger man than her named Tea Cake (Hurston 116). Janie left her home town with Teacake and had the privilege to travel to new places and experience freedom, love and happiness (Hurston, 131). A hurricane arrived to the muck and Teacake was bitten by a dog with rabbis, Teacake tried to kill Janie, and in self-defense Janie killed Teacake. After Teacake’s death Janie was able to “pull

“This one was hardly bigger than a garage. The table was cluttered with limp- looking magazines and at one end of it there was a big green glass ashtray full of cigarette butts and cotton wads with little blood spots on them. If she had had anything to do with the running of the place, that would have been emptied every so often. There were no chairs against the wall at the head of the room. It had a rectangular-shaped panel in it that permitted a view of the office where the nurse came and went and the secretary listened to the radio. A plastic fern, in a gold pot sat in the opening and trailed its fronds down almost to the floor. The radio was softly playing gospel music” (O’Connor 3). As the Turpins waited Mrs. Turpin began to describe the other waiting room occupants to pass the time. Mrs. Turpin can be seen as a larger woman who is proud of her means and then there is her husband Claud who can be described as a “florid, bald, sturdy and shorter than Mrs. Turpin (O’Connor 1). Next was an unnamed blonde child whose attire consisted of a dirty blue romper, the boy’s mother was seen “wearing on a yellow sweatshirt and wine- colored slacks, both gritty-looking, and the rims of her lips were stained with snuff. Her dirty yellow hair was tied behind with a little piece of red paper ribbon” (O’Connor 5). The next woman is called the “stylish woman” by

It was June 10, the day we got out of school and headed to the beach. It was our annual family trip to Myrtle Beach which meant going to Family Kingdom, River City, to the ocean, and playing around. I couldn’t wait it was finally time to go and as soon as we got on the highway my mom stops the car and turns around because she forgot her pillow. That didn’t really bother me because everyone forgets things. We were about two hours into the trip when my brother realizes that he forgot his phone. He complained the whole rest of the way how he wanted to go home and he didn’t want to go all because of his phone. But the best part was soon to come. We stopped at a convenient store to rest and get a snack. I got a bag of Chex Mix and a Blue Raspberry

“I was just told that the crazy Ewell folks be comin’ at my kids. Thank the Lord my children are okay.” Calpurnia gave me a big hug and a kiss. But when she let go, I saw that a trace of tears had filled her eyes. I sat down at the kitchen table and watched Cal make breakfast like she had done for me every day of my life as long as I can remember. I heard Jem wake up, I ran to his room.

In order to gain more knowledge and a better understanding of postcolonial discourses within the context of the Monterey Bay area I conducted my field research at the Carmel mission. I decided to do my field research relating to the carmel mission because I am interested in the psychological effects Native Americans experienced during the creation of the missions and how the missionaries affected them. In addition,  other reasons why I chose this postcolonial issue is because I wanted to gain more knowledge on the missions, since I was given a very vague historical description in primary school. Lastly, I was curious in this topic because I wanted to engage in multiple perspectives and to hear what individuals really knew about the mission.

I know a lot of people asked if your dogs are in Vancouver with you.

Your article on the Miami Herald website called “Will Florida Bay survive the summer?” opened my eyes as to what is going on in the Florida Bay and has inspired me to bring awareness to the sea grass die off during my research trip to the Florida Bay. This week, I did my own research to measure the salinity of the Bay and the water temperature to compare the results to the last sea grass die-off which occurred in the early 1990s. I have discovered that the temperature of the bay in the summer of 2015 compared to the temperature in the summer of 1990 increased astronomically. In fact, the temperature was 93 degrees when I made my measurements and just to confirm my measurements I sent emails to researchers

Without significant, strong people in the world, the earth would be no longer here. People would not survive and the world would be in chaos. Because of this, the people who do good for the world are treasured and kept close. In the biography Harriet Tubman: Guide to Freedom by Ann Petry and the autobiography I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou, two extraordinary women are revealed in the text. While Harriet is a former slave with little experience in the real world but with a heart filled with bravery, Mrs. Flowers is petite and full of willpower to strive to success.

Estuaries are known for being sensitive to several human activities, such as littering and building structures like dams and seawalls that affect their natural flow of freshwater. As estuaries can prevent nearby streets from flooding, they will consequently bring many of their contaminates as well (Baker), which can pose a serious issue for an estuary’s productivity and health. UFL geologist John M. Jager argues that “toxic substances and excess nutrients [from such human-made factors] contribute to fish diseases, algal blooms, and low dissolved oxygen,” all being a threat to the health of not only the estuary itself, but additionally that of its wildlife and even humans themselves.

I take a deep breath, my nostrils are filled with the pleasant aroma of the salty sea air. This is my happy place, this is where I belong. As I sit with my freshly painted pink toes in the sand, I am overwhelmed with all that is happening around me. To my right, there is a family of four; a mother, father, and two little red headed girls that look like twins, laughing and jumping around, taking in the big world around them. The children are in their bright red and purple flowered bathing suits, running and screaming, attempting to get their toes wet in the chilly water that churns back and forth on the shore. After a few attempts they decide to run and jump full force into the crystal clear abyss, unaware of what creatures they could find if they dive deep enough.