We slowly crept around the corner, finally sneaking a peek at our cabin. As I hopped out of the front seat of the truck, a sharp sense of loneliness came over me. I looked around and saw nothing but the leaves on the trees glittering from the constant blowing wind. Catching myself standing staring around me at all the beautiful trees, I noticed that the trees have not changed at all, but still stand tall and as close as usual. I realized that the trees surrounding the cabin are similar to the being of my family: the feelings of never being parted when were all together staying at our cabin.
With only the songs of birds for company, I felt completely isolated from the crowds and traffic as I walked over the deep carpet of leaves. It had begun to rain a litt le when I first started my journey. However, small patches of sunshine soon began to filter through the giant oaks, promising that the rest of may day would be pleasant. I first reached the part of the forest known as Bellringer's Hollow. Colorful wildflowers were blooming in a patchwork of bright yellow, azure blue, deep rose, and dazzling orange.
Whenever the wind blew, it was snowing yellow, and I was covered with them. I would often doze off in that yellow blanket while the sunshine held my feet with her warm hands and the gentle breeze brushed my hair. In my dreams, I climbed that tree all the way up and reached the clouds--the white cotton candies. Carefree, worry free; my younger years... Everything seemed so beautiful in my eyes. Mother Nature was with me and she filled the absence of my real mother during my childhood; my daily life started with the satisfying weather and ended without complaints.
From that second on I believe that both of would be friends for a lifetime. April moved into the vacant house that was two houses to the east of my house. It was a tall, two-story house in which I could see the entire house from my bedroom window. We spent our days together exploring the woods, riding bikes, and catching bugs. Our families were very close and often said that the two of us were like brother and sister.
When my brother and I weren't at "battle," I would lay beneath my oak tree and daydream. As I looked up I could see millions of branches protecting me from everything above. At the end of each branch were hundreds of more leaves that would gently catch the morning dew, and carefully allowed it to make its way to the grass. It was like thousands of stars in the sky as the sun caught the drops and allowed them to sparkle so brightly. This was my heaven, and as I lay there, I could feel the plush grass, like a snuggly old blanket, holding my body gently against the ground.
The setting takes place mostly in the woods around Andy’s house in Pennsylvania. The season is winter and snow has covered every inch of the woods and Andy’s favorite place to be in, “They had been in her dreams, and she had never lost' sight of them…woods always stayed the same.” (327). While the woods manage to continually stay the same, Andy wants to stay the same too because she is scared of growing up. The woods are where she can do manly activities such as hunting, fishing and camping with her father. Andy thinks of the woods as peaceful and relaxing, even when the snow hits the grounds making the woods sparkle and shimmer.
The setting takes place mostly in the woods around Andy’s house in Pennsylvania. The season is winter and snow has covered every inch of the woods and Andy’s favorite place to be in, “They had been in her dreams, and she had never lost' sight of them…woods always stayed the same.” (327). While the woods manage to continually stay the same, Andy wants to stay the same too because she is scared of growing up. The woods are where she can do manly activities such as hunting, fishing and camping with her father. According to Andy, she thinks of the woods as peaceful and relaxing, even when the snow hits the grounds making the woods sparkle and shimmer.
The imagery in this poem is marvelous. This poem allows the reader to see the house as if he were standing on the front porch. You can picture an old decrepit house, covered with vines and wild raspberries. There is a dying tree in the front yard, with only one vital branch on it. Beneath the tree there are two gravestones so covered in moss that the names cannot be... ... middle of paper ... ...uching poem to me because I was always taught to be my own person and I thank my parents for that.
Entire books have been written on the subject of old Butler such as Lost Heritage by Russ Calhoun Sr. Beautiful mountains with small creeks, a pristine lake, and rolling grassy valleys make the landscape of this beautiful place. Regardless of the time of year one will always find breathtaking landscape in the town of Butler, except for the mid winter when all of the leaves are off the trees and they look like skeletons, which can be very depressing. The natives of Butler are people who love their land and tend to stick with traditions.
My mother and I were walking in a park, a park I've never visited or seen. I felt as if anyone were to stare at us they could see the contentment and harmony radiating from myself. I was watching myself lay down on very soft green grass, but before I did I turned around to see if my mother was still near. I saw myself lay down under a tree. This tree was uniquely beautiful because of its thin twisting, almost fragile looking branches.