Frost Tree At My Window Essay

the forest on a path that twisted and turned alongside a small creek. Along the path, spread out amongst the thick forest, were groupings of rose bushes, huge moss-covered boulders, giant tree roots that threatened to overtake the path, wild flowers that were holding on by a thread, praying that the first frost would never come, and puddles left over from a rainstorm two days ago. Selene was the leading the way. In

will never stop. At my house, that sits upon the top of a mountain, we had over three feet of snow. It was three days before Christmas and the sun was just rising over the snow covered mountain range, the morning sky was grey with a splash of pastel pink and a warm yellow. With the smell of black coffee, I woke up in my sister’s room. The sunshine was beginning to peak into the small yellow room, my sister, Allison, was still sleeping with shallow breaths. I carefully swing my legs out of her bed

recognized the green station wagon right away. It belonged to Miss Asher, my best friend Mason’s mom. She used to be a real beauty before Mason’s absentee dad, Owen, got a hold of her. At least, that’s what people said—auburn hair, pink cheeks, a tilt to her chin, tall and angular with a sway that made men stand a little taller. I bolted across the lawn, past a colossal Sequoia tree, and made a beeline for the door. Inside I could see my mom and Ms. Asher leaning against the kitchen stove exchanging anxious

With the hopes that it wouldn't snow, I traveled to Silverton Colorado with my dad in October. My dad and I had six elk tags for the very first rifle season. We pulled our camp trailer down to a nice wooded area about five miles before you get into town. The camp sight was about a quarter mile off of the highway. There were trees all around the camping spot; the only break in the trees was where the road came through. We set up our camp trailer the day before season started. We had set our alarm

Blake. At the young age of four, William was convinced that he was seeing visions of God along with other religious beings such as angels. According to a small biography on poets.org, these visions included God putting his head to William’s window and a tree full of angels in a meadow. Because of these “visions,” Blake’s parents decided it would be best to homeschool him, so he learned to read as well as write from his parents. This truly goes to show that you don’t possess an elegant education to

Green Building Technology: Functions, Impacts, and Future Prospects Word Count (excluding references and footnotes): 2941 words Table of Contents 1. Introduction ……………………………………………………………..Pg.2 2. Functions in Resource Conservation…………………………………...Pg.3 2.1 Background ……………………………………………………………..Pg.3 2.2 Heat Control……………………………………………………………..Pg.4 2.3 Emission Control………………………………………………………...Pg.5 3. Impacts…………………………………………………………………...Pg.7 3.1 Social Impacts…………………………………………………………

These are specific effects of window film proposed by them; 1. One square meter of a low-e wood window, the type with the smallest carbon footprint, has a carbon cost of 253 kilograms. The carbon cost of Solar Gard window film is less than one kilogram per square meter. 2. Solar Gard window film saves 1001 times more GHG emissions from entering the atmosphere than is used and/or created during its manufacture. 3. Solar Gard window film installed between 2007 and 2008 saved

the snow covered pavement. The dogs bark inside of my aunt’s house, and my family and I walk in. I am greeted by my aunts, uncles, and grandma on my dad’s side. My cousins, who are much older than me, sit in the living room enjoying the store bought peanuts, popcorn, and trail mix. I make my way past the crowded kitchen and settle on the stained couch. “Yeti”, the classic Christmas SYFY movie, plays on the TV. Unique ornaments cover the Christmas tree, while the dim Christmas lights reveal the dust

Poetry A Soldier By Robert Frost He is that fallen lance that lies as hurled, That lies unlifted now, come dew, come rust, But still lies pointed as it plowed the dust. If we who sight along it round the world, See nothing worthy to have been its mark, It is because like men we look too near, Forgetting that as fitted to the sphere, Our missiles always make too short an arc. They fall, they rip the grass, they intersect The curve of earth, and striking, break their own; They make us

The light of the new morning sun shines through the gaps of my ivory lace curtains. I can see the almost too tiny to see specks of dust floating gracefully in the streams of light, it’s almost like the dust never moves, never settles. A quartet of petite sparrow’s perch outside my window singing a welcoming song. As I sat up in bed a waft of freshly ground coffee entices my senses. I open the curtains, look out at the frost-bitten grass, the glassy lake across the way and the white gradient fog that