The Road Poem

For instance, the two roads which are diverging into the woods are symbolic of choices in life. The term ‘yellow woods’, is symbolic of autumn season and nature’s readiness to accept a new season. The speaker’s initial indecisiveness is symbolic of human nature, not to take apt decision at critical situations. Both the roads are similar and this is symbolic of the difficulty faced by human beings in life. The grass, morning, etc are symbolic of early stages in human life, in which decision making is so important. Besides, the morning is symbolic of new beginning in life or the chance to take an apt decision in life. So, the setting is symbolic because it represents human life and the importance of free will in life.

They sat down trying thinking of a way to get off the island. It made it a lot harder when there was a giant great white shark lingering around in the water. Suddenly a big boat drove by. “Wait a minute...is that a fisherman? Chase! I think we found our way home!” Peyton threw his fist in the air with an impelling force.

The day is gone again and night is closing in. I spent today in bed with vacant, blinking eyes that stared at pale blue walls as shadows crept around the room like clouds the wind has streaked across the winter sky. My vision wandered to the windowsill where motes of dust would dance in piercing beams of light as white and crisp as cotton sheets, but warmer than they ever were, now thin and worn to threads. I should have done a thousand things today. I should have studied calculus or cleaned the house or walked through puddles in the rain or sung a song I used to know.

“You let the fire go out.” Jack checked vaguely irritated by this irrelevance but too happy to let it worry him. “We can light the fire again. You should have been with us, Ralph. We had a smashing time.”

“That sounds good.” Tom says, trying to find a way to get the raft upstream. We found a side route, and Tom and me paddled back to the main hill, where Tom took off his soaking shoes.

The 1-minute sequence is free of dialogue, but conveys necessary information through subliminal filming techniques. The scene begins with a wide, overhead crane landscape shot that encapsulates town they’re leaving in a shadow, while the ferry is surrounded by bright, natural light, heading towards the unknown. This particular shadowing may infer they’re leaving the past behind, while the engulfing bright light may indicate a positive future in their travels. The next shot is a lower side shot that shows the expansive river and the ferry with a small-unidentified boat trailing behind. This scene is void of any structures other than the forest behind the two boats. Slowly, the boats move down the river with beautiful, soft side lighting from the natural sunset. The use of this lighting induces a personal connection with the ferry and its respective travels. Different from a typical Hollywood scene, the side lighting allows for

The forest behind Aiden's house were thick, and stretched on for miles. Tall pines, maples, and oaks reached up from the ground, their green and scarlet tipped fingers scraping the sky. Green-gold morning light filtered through the dense canopy above his head, and a few early fallen leaves crunched beneath his feet. A lazy stream trickled its way through the tangle of roots and heavy underbrush, gurgling softly as it went; the scales of small fish flashing below its crystal surface.

“The Road Not Taken” this poem is about choices that they had to make and the future choices this is just like our life we have to make choices all the time. these are some of the choice i had to make, to go my sisters game go to the IU football game or stay home and wash my show cows.

Dawn is breaking and the world is quiet; the calm before the dreaded storm. I hear approaching footsteps and look up to see Oak standing in front of me, his expression unreadable.

“Well, here it is.” Tash said as they got in the boat. She picked up the oars and began after the long line of orange boats.

He remains walking down the trails when he arrived at the dividing creek the man was thinking he was moving at good pace. He thought if he was to continue he would be with the boys by six-o'clock that evening. But he had stopped to try to eat it was so cold that his finger was still numbed. The man couldn't even take a bite of his food. Then he knew what was the problem and it was he forgot to build the fire to warm himself.

One day Peter and I arrived back at the island after teaching, and to our surprise the outboard engine was lying on the dock with the cover off. I remember saying to Peter, “I can hardly wait to hear this story.”

As the sun sunk its way behind the far hills, the day had ended. The long day, of chasing sheep, walking dogs, clearing streams and climbing hills had finally come to an end. The sweet smell of the freshly mown grass made the air heavy, sickly sweet. The smell of tired people and dogs crept through the air. The hills above and below are like a fingerprint. Rolling up and down, curving and changing no two parts ever the same. Dogs run backwards and forwards on their last legs for the day. As the sun disappears the darkness comes closer, covering the world like a blanket for the night. The long green grass became dark and gray with the change in light and the sheep in amongst the grass grew larger in their shadows. Young boys clamber back over the side of the hill, carrying several spades each. The old horse followed behind dragging the old fence posts through the long grass. The temperature had dropped a few degrees, making the boys shiver, as their teeth clattered together. Goose bumps painfully

After appearing intermittently in scattered sinkholes, the river rises three miles downstream in a big boil, then continues on to meet the Suwannee and the sea. Nearby, stands of cypress mirror themselves in the still waters, walls of dense river swamp rise before you, sudden sinkholes open in the woodlands-rich with cool ferns and mosses. Farther from the river, expanses of longleaf pinelands stretch across rolling hills. In the midst of this lovely setting, you find 65 campsites, 18 rustic cabins, and a pavilion for group meetings. A diving platform marks a good place to swim in the soft, cool waters of the Santa Fe, and canoeing up this dark river is like traveling backwards in time in the direction of original Florida.

Duncan and Torin leaped out of the boat to pull it to shore. Duncan extended his hand to Adaira to steady her as threw her leg over the high gunwale of the craft.