The Life Of A Sheep Eater

Miller constructs the plot of this essay both vertically and horizontally. She juxtaposes thoughts triggered by her senses, and her past. She weaved her racing thoughts into the moment of her present, while she was anxiously waiting away the final minutes of her date’s arrival. The author captured imagery through metaphors through word play of the word date, and connects past memories of her’s into her present state of waiting anxiously within those final minutes, “The dates-heavy, cloying ,dark as dried-blood- always made the roof of my mouth itch, but I ate them anyway because they came in a white box like candy. I ate them because I was told they were precious, the food of the gods.” (Miller, 2007, P, 386). Miller’s attention is caught on the items in her home. She stared at her refrigerator, trying to think of what her date would think of her based off of her material possessions. These fragments such as pictures, poetry on her walls, and even her blinds initiate thoughts within her. She started to form her own judgements of herself through the exceptions from her society.

It was pitch black, but I decided to go look for trails again. About an hour went by as I scaled a small mountain, the sun was just peaking over the the horizon. Once I reached the summit there it was, a watering hole with a small herd of javelina. This is the moment I had been training for since October. I pulled out my rifle and scoped in on the pack. I put my crosshairs on the largest one. I held my breathe, in that split second i could feel my heart beating, the adrenaline rushing through my system, and the wind going through my hair. I squeezed the trigger and exhaled slowly. Bang! The javelina went

“Don't listen to him,” her mother says, taking her hand and leading her inside the small house, closing the door on him. “He'll come around, Awen, you'll see. Please, sit down. We have so much to get caught up on, and I just put dinner in the oven.”

I sit and watch the morning pass by, an occasional raven flies by calling to its family, and all of a sudden something catches my eye. I look to the south and over the top of the hill comes a deer, my first deer of the season. I watch and realize it is a

It had taken some rearranging, but the Payne’s were going to have to share a room, with each of her sisters and their husband bedding in one of the girl’s double beds. Pa grumbled the most when he was sent out to the shed to share the space with his sons, who had been carried there earlier. Alma sensibly pointed out that the senior Paynes couldn’t be expected to sleep in the shed and Ma’s bed had taken over the parlor. Still, he took some persuading to go back out into the pounding rain and race to the barn. Finally, Alma propped her legs on the edge of the bed and slept the night away in the bedside rocker. The day had been long and hard and she was exhausted. She had planned to sit through the night with Ma anyway. But if Ma stirred, she didn’t call enough to wake

A half dozen riders atop of massive horses with horns like a fearsome bull only a seasoned matador would face, showed themselves in the the dim moon light. A moment later there were hundreds of them. I trembled with fear to the point it caused my to topple over. I gained control of my pounding heart and trembling legs enough to run for the bell, I had to alert the rest of the fort of the horsemen outside the gates. Immediately upon reaching the bell a sling stone came hurling out of the darkness knocking me

The author's foraging meal is his single most perfect meal that is environmentally sound in terms of origin and moral standards. The foraging meal was guided through self-reflection on some key questions, in which needed to be addressed to solve the omnivore's dilemma. The moral and psychological implications of killing, preparing and eating animals, distinguishing between the delicious and deadly in nature, and the modernly American practice of alchemy in our kitchens are all factors to the author's perfect meal.

Many years ago a man by the name of Advik was walking along what will be Jonesboro Arkansas and that day one of the most horrible things happened to him. It was a warm summer evening and Advik was getting ready to go back to his tribe after his hunt for elk. He could not believe what he had done earlier on that day. Advik brought his brand new bow to test on this hunt for it had been the first time of using it. As he aimed his bow slowly pulling back on the arrow and with the exhale of his breath he let go and hit it straight in the heart. It was a killshot no doubt but what he saw was what terrified him the most.

She moves slowly taking her first few steps, and approaches the handsome young man in front of her. Their eyes connect with one another, and the connection is not to be broken despite every distraction surrounding the two. They are both remembering their younger days. The days of a boy meeting a girl. The days of holding hands as they ran up and down these grounds just for play. The days of so much laughter, games, and unconditional affection. Oh how they had missed each other’s company, and both feel the calm on their

I was starting to worry, it is getting dark out.” She told me kissing my forehead. “Now come help me with dinner.’ Taking my hand and dragging me away, but not before I could see the smugness of my brother’s face. I sent him a glare before making it into the kitchen. The rest of the night went on, and rather like other nights when we’ve been together. We sat down, ate, and talked. Nothing particularly special about the rest of that night, excepting George’s visit. Still though, this was one of the few occasions we could actually all come together. At least one that was enjoyable. The next morning was one I was genuinely looking forward to. But when I woke up hearing Mum calling me. So I had gotten dressed, in a skirt this time, in an effort to silence her. I left my room expecting to see my mother making breakfast. But instead seeing two officers of sorts, waiting at the open door. With my mother and father standing in front of

Out of nowhere, blood began oozing from the side of the deer’s body. Alarmed by the sound and the impact of the bullet, the deer attempted to take off, only to find that it would not be able to run for very long. The deer proceeded to take a few more weak steps, before its legs were unable to hold it up very longer and its body collapsed to the ground. It soon ran out of breath and stopped moving completely. I realized what happened and I froze. Feeling numb, mind blank, I had no idea how to react. My uncle held a grin of pride on his face as he carried the deer back to the four-wheeler, but I could not comprehend his happiness. The eyes were still glossy and the tongue remained hanging out of the deer’s mouth, now dripping in blood.

The ancient land, sacred to the Stonefoot clan, gave him no sign of impending danger—nothing other than the sun wolves. At the edge of his vision, he saw his father, Gaurn, watching him. Gaurn’s dark hair speckled with white was tossed around in the breeze. His bushy dark eyebrows pinched together. He would worry, the sun wolves were there for anyone to see, and he understood what was on his son’s mind. It was on his.

I perched myself up in a tree stand overlooking a massive river valley. This is the place where deer come down and across in order to get to the fields for feeding. The towering tree stand soared over many small trees. I glanced over the railing, looking down at the snowy forest floor many feet below. It was a frightening height. “Pull your gun up. I’ll work my way back around to try and push some deer

Several of the tribe members were afraid and paranoid as to the situation we have fallen into, and I am guilty of having those same notions. Suddenly, a swarm of geared, metal soldiers charged at our camp site mounting bizarre, four legged animals at astonishing speeds. Our instant reaction was to ready our spears and arrows as rapidly as we could, taking the lives of at least a fraction of those evil beings before they could inflict further harm. However, when I least expected, I was shot by the rock-like projectiles. It was a hopeless cause; these advanced weapons of death and destruction were much too powerful. Everything transformed into a bloody and horrific scene, which concluded in countless lost lives of the inhabitants of my tribe. The Armageddon of my race has come; there was no doubt in my mind of anything otherwise. As I raised my head in pain and agony, I witnessed the suffering and massacre of my beloved people. A display of violence I can only wish will never be

It was about 13 degrees out and the sun had just started to peek over the mountains behind our house. It was a magnificent morning. It was one of those crisp, cold mornings with no wind and I could hear for miles and miles. I remember hearing my neighbor’s dog, Orvis, barking two miles away. I kept walking for about a quarter mile until I came upon a field that was always a hot spot for deer in the morning. It was an exciting feeling to be out in the woods with the deer, yet at the same time, a terrifying feeling. Was I going to fail yet another year of not bagging my buck? I was anxious as to what my family and friends would think of me. I needed to get a deer in the worst way.