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As the first rays of the sun peak over the horizon, penetrating the dark, soft light illuminates the mist rising up from the ground, forming an eerie, almost surreal landscape. The ground sparkles, wet with dew, and while walking from the truck to the barn, my riding boots soak it in. The crickets still chirp, only slower now. They know that daytime fast approaches. Sounds, the soft rustling of hooves, a snort, and from far down the aisle a sharp whinny that begs for breakfast, inform me that the crickets are not the only ones preparing for the day. Sliding the barn doors open, I step into a warm, comforting environment. Musty straw mingles with the sharp aroma of pine shavings, complementing each other. A warm glow from sporadically placed incandescent lightbulbs richens the leather tack, all cleaned and hanging ready for the day's use. From it wafts the smell of a new pair of shoes. The fruity essence of "Show Sheen", applied after yesterday's baths, still lingers in the air. Even the harsh stinging scent of urine and manure is welcome at this early morning hour. Breaking open a bale of hay, I sense the sweetness of the dried timothy as it engulfs my olfactory system, making me wish my queasy stomach had not made me skip breakfast. I am nervous, as are many others. I know that the day ahead will bring excitement, dread, triumph, and defeat. The unpredictable nature of horse shows causes frenzied questions, like salmon spawning, to run constantly though my mind. Will the judge like my own particular style? What if the red flowers bordering the first jump spook my horse? What if a piece of paper on the ground blows into the ring? Will this horse show be a success? The outcome depends not just on me; but a... ... middle of paper ... ... to the barn, friends and family echo "congratulations" and "good for you". The feeling of accomplishment as I dismount amidst all of Hartwood's magic erases any doubts of earlier. Now we must pack. Our gear slowly fills the trucks, until finally, only the tack trunks remain. As I hold my ribbons, my gaze shifts to the showgrounds, almost deserted now, a forgotten battlefield with only the last stragglers searching for forgotten treasures, until I close my eyes and all of Hartwood's splendor flashes before me. Silently I say good bye. Laying my ribbons gingerly into my tack trunk, I straighten every wrinkle, smoothing them with my fingertips, almost caressing. Lowering the lid, I see their bright colors fade into the deep black darkness. Blues, reds, greens, soak in the smell of the neighboring leather, all tucked in, prepared for the long ride home.
It was early, the sun was just beginning to peak over the mountains that lined the distant horizon. The breeze carried with it the scents of dew and the variety of wildflowers that grew along the lake shore. Flocks of birds flew over head, their cries piercing the silence of morning.
An impulse of affection and guardianship drew Niel up the poplar-bordered road in the early light [. . .] and on to the marsh. The sky was burning with the soft pink and silver of a cloudless summer dawn. The heavy, bowed grasses splashed him to the knees. All over the marsh, snow-on-the-mountain, globed with dew, made cool sheets of silver, and the swamp milk-weed spread its flat, raspberry-coloured clusters. There was an almost religious purity about the fresh morning air, the tender sky, the grass and flowers with the sheen of early dew upon them. There was in all living things something limpid and joyous-like the wet morning call of the birds, flying up through the unstained atmosphere. Out of the saffron east a thin, yellow, wine-like sunshine began to gild the fragrant meadows and the glistening tops of the grove. Neil wondered why he did not often come over like this, to see the day before men and their activities had spoiled it, while the morning star was still unsullied, like a gift handed down from the heroic ages.
The speaker in “Five A.M.” looks to nature as a source of beauty during his early morning walk, and after clearing his mind and processing his thoughts along the journey, he begins his return home feeling as though he is ready to begin the “uphill curve” (ln. 14) in order to process his daily struggles. However, while the speaker in “Five Flights Up,” shares the same struggles as her fellow speaker, she does little to involve herself in nature other than to observe it from the safety of her place of residence. Although suffering as a result of her struggles, the speaker does little to want to help herself out of her situation, instead choosing to believe that she cannot hardly bare recovery or to lift the shroud of night that has fallen over her. Both speakers face a journey ahead of them whether it be “the uphill curve where a thicket spills with birds every spring” (ln. 14-15) or the five flights of stares ahead of them, yet it is in their attitude where these two individuals differ. Through the appreciation of his early morning surroundings, the speaker in “Five A.M.” finds solitude and self-fulfillment, whereas the speaker in “Five Flights Up” has still failed to realize her own role in that of her recovery from this dark time in her life and how nature can serve a beneficial role in relieving her of her
I took a deep breath as I walked my horse into the Greeley Stampede Arena. I told myself just to "relax." I loped a circle around the arena to make sure that my horse was warmed up and ready to go. He was ready but I was starting to get nervous. I stopped in front of the roping box to put my piggin' string in my mouth. I looked at my calf in the chute to make sure that it was number 33, which was one of the best calves out of the whole set. It was, and I was ready to ride into the box and rope my calf, or attempt to rope my calf. I began to get more nervous, more nervous than I ever had been at a rodeo.
This is what I had been hoping for the entire year. I had been to many that were quite the same to this one, but none that could give me the same enduring edginess and serenity that I was feeling right now. My eyes skimmed across the hundreds of people who were all there for the same reason as me. Striving to be out of the sweltering sun, but not out of clear view of what I came for, I lead myself in a mighty search for the spot for which I belonged. As I sat down, I prepared myself for the pain that I was going to feel about an hour later. I always forgot how sore I would get from sitting on the bleachers for so long, but every time I approached them, I would remember and smile.
200 000 in 1963 to 410 000 in 1977 just two years from the end of his
As has been observed, thoroughbred racing fans come to Santa Anita Park in Arcadia in groups. Three-fourth of the fans is middle age or older. Furthermore, they are neat, smart, and machine savvy. Racing fans come to Santa Anita Park to socialize and to be part of the euphoria of watching a horse race. Moreover, the racing fans hone their analytic skills to pick the winning horse. Also, by staking money on a race, the fans become participants as if they are the jockey riding the favored horse to the finish line. Consequently, by winning on the race, the fans experience that exhilarating winning feeling driven by adrenaline rush. This feeling of being a winner is addictive and for this reason, thoroughbred racing fans come back regularly to Santa Anita Park.
people in this book. Everybody listens to him and he is kind of like a boss. Even Curley (Slims
A mosque is called Masjid in Arabic the language of Islam. The word literally means ?Place of Prostration? because strictly speaking a mosque is anywhere where a Muslim kneels down to prostrate him/herself before Allah. A prayer mat laid down at home or even at the side of the road becomes a mosque-a place of prostration.
Throughout the book we are introduced to many characters with traits and qualities that make them each memorable and unique. These characters have interactions among each other that shows the way that power affects them. While there are a few characters that do not abuse their power, most of the characters respond to power or a lack of power with acts to make themselves make themselves feel more powerful. In Of Mice and Men, Steinbeck uses the strengths and weaknesses of various characters to show how characters can prey on weaker characters in order to make themselves seem superior.
The wind whispered outside my flower curtains. My Rosemary garden swayed to the noiseless tune. I sit quietly watching their soft movement, the flowers I worked hard to nurse. The rest of my yard remained parched, with time it had given defeat to the hot Alabama sky.I glared at the cracked dirt, cursing it for giving in to the pressure, praying I won't do the same .I sip the cool lemon ice tea, the cubes of ice brush on my dry lips.
...de they can enter through sixteen gates that are open for people. There are various people who are climbing the mosque and are ready to call their prayers and support the muslim religion (Fig.3). Also, in the inside there are seventeen aisles and each aisle gets one window, from where people can go freely and pray. 5
Muslims are known to worship in buildings called Mosques. Mosques are similar to churches, but are used for Islamic believers. There are many famous Islamic structures, one of the most famous is located in Malaysia. The Crystal Mosque it is made out of crystals, glass, and steel. It was built between 2006 and 2008 and opened in February 8th, 2008. It has the storage to hold over 1,500 people at a time.
and prices of promotion. I will have to stick to a budget so that I
The sky, mid-afternoon, a beautiful canvas graced with sky blues and pure milky whites. The blue in the depths beyond and the smooth, rounded, sugary sweet clouds in the foreground; February mornings were made to be like this. Stained white wooden porches, green plastic lawn and garden chairs and a yellow butterfly dancing above the steamy urban pavement with an invisible partner to a made up song.