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Expression of beauty (essay)
Expression of beauty (essay)
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Our Cabin in The Clouds
The true peak of the excitement of my summer vacations. The joy and ecstasy of life outside of suburbia is entirely summed up by heavens in the north. This place has been my life of every summer and weekend from a young age, and shared by my parents and grandparents the same way. There’s an instant feeling of walking through the threshold of safety, freedom, and pure paradise. The instant feeling of familiarity, though it’s a vast openness of a world you can never fully experience, that relieves all the stresses of reality and overcomes you with the security of nothing but good. That’s how I always felt when I came here; it was a detox, a rehabilitation of the mind. Though it may not be feelings shared by everyone, the woodlands of the northeast have always felt like home my home.
Like expressed by Thoreau and Emerson, the woods provide purity and simplicity. The bustling city is overcast, it’s windy and grey, but the rev of the car’s engine racing out of the city limits seems to coincide with the brightness and the liveliness that grows the further you escape it. Hours fly by and the road begins to rise and wind as the clouds thin. When my ears begin to pop I know I’m nearing my destination. I roll down my window, gazing at the trees as they fly by, and the crisp air wakens me as the fresh pine overcomes and relaxes my every being.
The long road to my parent’s house goes on for miles, but a small post in the ground marks the dirt driveway the rises up onto the property. Driving slowly I notice how the changes of the season and the time between my last visit has ever so slightly changed the surroundings. The car shakes back and forth with the unevenness of the rocky little road. It’s quiet for a minute,...
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...don’t realize how dark the woods are getting and the shadows casted through the trees create a purple tint into this fairytale forest. I can smell meat cooking and the sound of fire popping and crackling. This primal instinct drives me again towards home.
As the seasons change there’s new things to explore with each visit. It’s a world of endless fascination. There’s no need to worry about what time it is, because the sky will always tell you. There’s no sound of the cars and sirens racing by, only the chitchat of the wildlife and the twigs breaking underneath the deer that eats the raspberries out by the steam. There are no words to express the overwhelming serenity, the eternal peace inside my soul – given to me by the mountain air, the fresh trees, and the winding roads that strip away all my problems at every climb and stretch until I make it to my nirvana.
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 wasn’t even outside but I could feel the warm glow the sun was projecting all across the campsite. It seemed as if the first three days were gloomy and dreary, but when the sun on the fourth day arose, it washed away the heartache I had felt. I headed out of the trailer and went straight to the river. I walked to the edge, where my feet barely touched the icy water, and I felt a sense of tranquility emanate from the river. I felt as if the whole place had transformed and was back to being the place I loved the most. That day, when we went out on the boat, I went wakeboarding for the first time without my grandma. While I was up on the board and cutting through the wake of the boat, it didn’t feel like the boat was the one pulling and guiding me, it felt like the river was pushing and leading me. It was always nice to receive the reassurance from my grandma after wakeboarding, but this time I received it from my surroundings. The trees that were already three times the size of me, seemed to stand even taller as I glided past them on the river. The sun encouraged me with its brightness and warmth, and the River revitalized me with its powerful currents. The next three days passed by with ease, I no longer needed to reminisce of what my trips used to be like. Instead, I could be present in the moment, surrounded by the beautiful natural
The drive to cross the Kentucky border had taken hours and hours of strenuous patience to finally arrive in another state. The view was by far country like as hints of cow manure could be smelled far from a distance. We drive through small towns, half the size of our hometown of Glen Ellyn had been the biggest town we've seen if not smaller. The scenery had overwhelmed us, as lumps of Earth from a great distance turned to perfectly molded hills, but as we got closer and closer to our destination the hills no longer were hills anymore, instead the hills had transformed to massive mountains of various sizes. These mountains surrounded our every view as if we had sunken into a great big deep hole of green pastures. Our path of direction was seen, as the trails of our road that had followed for numerous hours ended up winding up the mountainous mountains in a corkscrew dizzy-like matter.
At first, the idea of escaping into nature was cumbersome. Meandering aimlessly concerned me. My mind was stained with negative thoughts of solitude and being alone first felt demoralizing, but slowly my earlier assumption dissipated, fully disappearing from the subconscious once I broke the boundary and stepped into nature. Emerson notes, “In the woods, we return to reason and faith. There I feel that nothing can befall me in life, - no disgrace, no calamity, (leaving me my eyes,) which nature cannot repair” (8). I too believe what Emerson says. In my own rush to “fit in” I dismissed my own morals accepted others as if they were my own. I put my energy into modeling myself according to the contemplation of others, all the while ignoring principles
“The integrity of impression made by manifold natural objects… in the tranquil landscape, and especially in the distant line of the horizon, man beholds somewhat as beautiful as his own nature” (Emerson). Rather than providing a technical, concrete definition of nature, Ralph Waldo Emerson brings a fresh take to how nature is defined. In fact, other authors and individuals have shaped their own definition of nature: what they believe it possesses in addition to what it encompasses. This theme has been widely discussed, with a peak in the nineteenth century. Ralph Waldo Emerson and Henry David Thoreau are responsible for the fixation of nature in literature, and Christopher McCandless plus Cheryl Strayed are answerable for bringing that fixation into a more recent time period. Nature was and is a prevalent theme in literature and society; however, every individual views it differently. While Emerson, Thoreau, McCandless, and Strayed all took similar approaches in interacting with nature, they differ in their belief of what nature offers individuals.
The opening paragraph is an incredibly vivid account of nights spent by “the stony shore” of Walden Pond. His description of the animals around the pond, the cool temperature, and the gentle sounds of lapping waves and rustling leaves all serve to remove the idea that nature is a wild and unkempt world of its own, and instead makes it seem much more serene and graceful. Any who thought of Thoreau as an insane outdoorsmen may have even found themselves repulsed by the monotony and constant bustle of city life and longing for the serenity felt by Thoreau. This
Jim is an innocent young man, living on the coast of Queensland. In this peaceful town, everybody is happy and at peace with themselves and with nature. The people enjoy the simple pleasures of life - nature, birds, and friendly neighbourly conversations. Their days are filled with peaceful walks in the bush, bird watching and fishing. Jim and his friends especially enjoy the serenity of the sanctuary and the wonders of nature that it holds.
I was the first person to ski off of the chairlift that day; arriving at the summit of the Blackcomb Mountain, nestled in the heart of Whistler, Canada. It was the type of day when the clouds seemed to blanket the sky, leaving no clue that the sun, with its powerful light, even existed anymore. It was not snowing, but judging by the moist, musty, stale scent in the air, I realized it would be only a short time before the white flakes overtook the mountain. As I prepared myself to make the first run, I took a moment to appreciate my surroundings. Somehow things seemed much different up here. The wind, nonexistent at the bottom, began to gust. Its cold bite found my nose and froze my toes. Its quick and sudden swirling movement kicked loose snow into my face, forcing me to zip my jacket over my chin. It is strange how the gray clouds, which seemed so far above me at the bottom, really did not appear that high anymore. As I gazed out over the landscape, the city below seemed unrecognizable. The enormous buildings which I had driven past earlier looked like dollhouses a child migh...
Henry David Thoreau implies that simplicity and nature are valuable to a person’s happiness in “Why I Went to the Woods”. An overall theme used in his work was the connection to one’s spiritual self. Thoreau believed that by being secluded in nature and away from society would allow one to connect with their inner self. Wordsworth and Thoreau imply the same idea that the simple pleasures in life are easily overlooked or ignored. Seeing the true beauty of nature allows oneself to rejuvenate their mentality and desires. When one allows, they can become closer to their spiritual selves. One of William Wordsworth’s popular pieces, “Tintern Abbey”, discusses the beauty and tranquility of nature. Wordsworth believed that when people
"Stopping by Woods" The visible sign of the poet's preoccupation is the recurrent image of dark woods and trees. The world of the woods, a world offering perfect quiet and solitude, exists side by side with the realization that there is also another world, a world of people and social obligations. Both worlds have claims on the poet. He stops by woods on this "darkest evening of the year" to watch them "fill up with snow," and lingers so long that his "little horse" shakes his harness bells "to ask if there is some mistake." The poet is put in mind of the "promises" he has to keep, of the miles he still must travel. We are not told, however, that the call of social responsibility proves stronger than the attraction of the woods, which are "lovely" as well as "dark and deep"; the poet and his horse have not moved on at the poem's end. The dichotomy of the poet's obligations both to the woods and to a world of "promises"--the latter filtering like a barely heard echo through the almost hypnotic state induced by the woods and falling snow-is what gives this poem its singular interest.... The artfulness of "Stopping by Woods" consists in the way the two worlds are established and balanced. The poet is aware that the woods by which he is stopping belong to someone in the village; they are owned by the world of men. But at the same time they are his, the poet's woods, too, by virtue of what they mean to him in terms of emotion and private signification.
Robert Frost’s love of nature is expressed in the setting of his poem "Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening." His elaborate description of the woody setting brings vivid images to the reader’s mind. Frost explains the setting so descriptively that the reader feels he is in the woods alsoThe setting is a very important tool Frost uses in writing this poem. The setting is obviously in the woods, but these are not just any old woods. Something caught the speaker’s eyes in these woods making them a special place for the speaker. It seems as if the speaker has associated these woods with an aspect of his "personal paradise". The peacefulness, tranquillity, darkness, and silence are all important parts of this "paradise".
I awoke to the sun piercing through the screen of my tent while stretching my arms out wide to nudge my friend Alicia to wake up. “Finally!” I said to Alicia, the countdown is over. As I unzip the screen door and we climb out of our tent, I’m embraced with the aroma of campfire burritos that Alicia’s mom Nancy was preparing for us on her humungous skillet. While we wait for our breakfast to be finished, me and Alicia, as we do every morning, head to the front convenient store for our morning french vanilla cappuccino. On our walk back to the campsite we always take a short stroll along the lake shore to admire the incandescent sun as it shines over the gleaming dark blue water. This has become a tradition that we do every
The familiarity of the woods, the natural urges my body has to be outside and be active in the setting that most people in today’s society only truly see in movies, if that, reminds me of other ventures into the woods, the citrusy smell of pine mixed with the smells of wild grasses and various flowers create an unmatched bombardment of scents. These scents stimulate the mind in a calming way unlike any medication or music ever could. The aroma of the forest sends chills down my spine, causing you to get the urge to explore and to absorb yourself in to the natural wonders the human body
Fortunately, I wake every morning to the most beautiful sun lit house. I sit on my porch sipping coffee, while I drink in an atmosphere that steals my breath away. Rolling hills lay before me that undulate until they crash into golden purple mountains. Oh how they are covered in spectacular fauna, ever blooming foliage, and trees that are heavy with pungent fruit. Green it is always so green here at my house. Here where the air lays heavy and cool on my skin as does the striking rays of the sun upon my cheeks. I know in my soul why I choose to be here every day. Pocketed in all the nooks and crannies of these valleys and hills are stately homes, rich with architecture resplendent. Diversity is the palate here; ...
The title of Robert Frost’s lyric poem “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”, conjures mental imagery of a remote country lane with a nearby wood. They are filled with increasing shadows as the last light of day fades away. Snow falls gently and quietly upon the landscape, inviting a traveler to stop for a moment to view the scenery beside him. This carefully worded title paints a clear picture of the setting in which the poem takes place. Although the imagery and its associated feelings will be different for each reader, the title suggests taking time to put aside other endeavors for a brief moment to enjoy a spectacle of nature. The sound effects within the poem itself build upon the title as the situation unfolds, creating a light-hearted atmosphere indicative of a pleasant experience. Frost’s poem “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” uses meter, rhyme scheme, alliteration, and repetition to set the mood throughout the poem’s four stanzas.