Life Among the Fish
I dropped my air tank on the deck of the boat, creating a deep hollow sound throughout the air. The tank lay on the rough floor teetering from side to side until finally resting against the waistband. I gazed at it for a moment lost in its sleek wetness while water poured down my back. “What are you looking at? Help me with my tank!” my sister Tawnya yelled from the stern of the boat. She was half way up the ladder with her tank slowly slipping off her back. My dad was the last one up the ladder. Dropping his tank, he let out the noise he always makes when he gets through something of a feat, a loud noise that sounds as though a train were going through the center of the boat. That day in the ocean took away any fear that I might have had in the future for doing anything adventurous.
We got on the boat around nine that morning. The sun was sending out its warm rays that tickled your skin when you stepped into it from the shade. A white boat dubbed the “Naughty Nymph,” was our vehicle for the day to take us on endless adventures. Dad was getting the food on the boat as Tawnya and I ran around looking for secret hiding spots and the better place to put our towels. The bow of the boat seemed to be the best spot so that is where we settled. Dad yelled if we were ready to take off, and off we went.
The waters were crystal blue. The coral on the sea floor was popping out at me as the water worked as magnifying glass. The water looked only three feet deep, a depth that would make anyone feel uneasy about driving over in a boat. There were islands all around us, chess pieces of the sea, which shot out of the ocean without warning. The wind was tickling my...
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...ted to stay at the altitude of negative twenty for the rest of my life. I was not afraid down there, with the fish and the dead silence between breaths. I was not afraid of anything at that point. I would think of something that had frightened me before and would be completely calm at the thought. I was no longer afraid to do anything alone or something I would not normally do.
I went back to living my life with the fish, doing flips and shaking hands with the seaweed until I felt someone take my hand. I looked up and saw Tawnya; it was time to head back to the surface. She pulled me along to where dad was waiting for us. I looked back at the great wall and smiled. Watching my world being swallowed up by the sea, I said good-bye to my friends and thanked them for being there to take away my fears for anything that came my way in the future.
The sea rats came closer and closer by the second. My heart was pounding really hard and I had butterflies in my stomach! I was running out of ideas to get out of the lantern room and looked around helplessly and my eyes grew wide when I saw the one opportunity and hope in our lives.
As my family and I sped along the coast, the sour smell of sulfur vents and sea salt pungently gusted through my nostrils. My clothes were damp from the constant spray of seawater. My sense of balance was overcome by the sequential hop from wave to wave and – combined with the
A poem without any complications can force an author to say more with much less. Although that may sound quite cliché, it rings true when one examines “The Fish” by Elizabeth Bishop. Elizabeth’s Bishop’s poem is on an exceedingly straightforward topic about the act of catching a fish. However, her ability to utilize thematic elements such as figurative language, imagery and tone allows for “The Fish” to be about something greater. These three elements weave themselves together to create a work of art that goes beyond its simple subject.
There I stand on the Atlantic Ocean beach in Daytona, Florida. It’s 7:49 A.M, June 28, 2015. I feel my size ten feet sink into the frosty sand. With my board in my left arm, and sand covering my body, I seize my direction towards the blue ocean. As I halt at the base of the monumental ocean, I gaze in both directions, not a life in sight. I feel at peace, solitude, in my own meager world. As the crisp ocean mist wipes my sand replete face, I bounce into the ocean with my board under my body, cruising into the profound blue sea.
I was having a blast, a whole summer being at home with my friends. Until one day I got more that I bargained for.My friend, Caleb, and I were out surfing one day waiting for the tide to start rollin in. Then all of the sudden Caleb as knocked of his board. As I look around all I could see was the icy blue ocean take the appearance of a battle ground. I remember the scream that destroyed my soul. The shaking of the water coming from a man fighting for his life. I remember the words coming out of my mouth “Hey we should go surfing at Buffels bay today, it 's pretty goddamn rad there”. The feeling of guilt that took over my body, along with the fear of what will happen next. I remember the haunting image of a man missing his leg being taken away by the metal angel we call helicopters. A week later Caleb was alive, but was not left untouched like me. He was missing his left leg from the knee down, he was attacked by a great white shark. This was the moment that my life changed. I could never focus on the nightmare inducing screams, but I focused that how incredibly lucky I am to have walked away from this whole event unharmed. I focused on the fact that two months later Caleb was back into the ocean, something I could never
SUMMARY: The Syrian Civil War between the Syrian government, and the insurgents, as well as the Free Syrian Army has been escalating since early 2011. The United States, and our allies have faced difficulty in sending aid to Syria, and continue to deal with obstacles in sending even basic medications to Syrian civilians. However, the United States and its allies have also contributed to the lack of organization and the disparity in Syria by sending aid and artillery to individuals based only on political connection, and ignoring organization, local alliances, and without a true understanding of the reality of the Syrian localities to best protect the Syrian protestors. The question addressed in this memo will be defining the viable options to be pursued in Syria, how to pursue them, and assessing the most beneficial path of least resistance when offering aid, funds, and artillery to specific groups in the country. The recommendation will be that although the best alternative action item would be to choose a Syrian group with the least oppositional values comparative to the United States to fund, supply with arms, and train; that the United States should do nothing for the time being. Given the physical and financial risk involved with the Syrian Civil War, it would be prudent for the United States to simply observe how the war progresses over the next several months, as well as complete some research to truly understand the state of affairs in local areas of Syria to determine the extent to which the United States could identify a group to provide aid to, as well as the extent to which the United States involvement would be within Syria.
Linked with colour is the important use of light and dark ni the play to
...and didn’t credit those deserving of it. “We have always been shameless about stealing great ideas” remarked Steve Jobs. Apple always came off as the dominator of the technology world, but in the recent years they are falling down. In order to get back on top, Apple needs to create a product so revolutionary that even their competitors would be stunned. Apple seemed to be an “undisputed king” but after the death of Steve Jobs, Apple seemed to come in second after their competitors. Another problem Apple has to pay closer attention to the treatment to their employees in their factories all over the world because these laws are not only in violation of local laws, but national laws as well and could cause a lot of problems for the company As Apple gets bigger they experience problems with employee treatment, keeping up with expectations and their success over seas.
As we pulled out of my parents driveway, the circumstances seemed very surreal. My entire way of life had been turned upside down with only a few hours consideration. I was very much “at sea” in the ...
Closer and closer to the calm water, I began sinking deeper in the sand. It was comforting, the silence, tranquility, and warmth of the faint sun. There is a slight breeze, warm, but cold and lonely. I could smell the scent of fish blowing through my hair and body. The sun was still fading, slowly but surely the day was almost over. About half of it is gone now. I could see shades of blue, red, purple, and pinkish-yellow. They were mixed with puffy clouds that lined the beginning of the sky and the end of the water. I noticed the darker shades on the bottom of the lower clouds.
...e became more and more overcome with suspense and anticipation. Before we plunged to the bottom, we noticed a kayak broken in two pieces. It had been caused by a collision with a boulder, at the bottom of the fall. We were scared to death, because we thought we would hit it and flip over. However, with the help of our fast-thinking and skillful guide, we were able to make it down the fall safely. All the action was over, so we let out a sigh of relief and allowed our nerves to relax.
My toes burrowed into the damp sand and I was relieved to realize that the water was warmer than I had expected. As I stood there and breathed in, deeply, the moist salty air, allowing my heart to fill with the vigor of the ocean and releasing the thoughts of the boy from my past with each exhale, a ball hit my feet and a man ran to get it as his friend yelled “you’re welcome!.” Were they trying to get my attention? I thought as I simply walked away avoiding eye contact with the man who collected the ball. I wandered along the water’s border allowing the water to cooly kiss my feet. the water hit my feet. I smiled as I looked at all of the young surfers attempting to catch the two foot waves. I amused myself by pondering what their future would look like and if I was witnessing the start of a surfing legend. I envied their potential, the years they would have to master their art to acquire their dreams, whatever they may be.
We came into Lituya at about eight o’clock in the evening, my son was with me. Approximately 10:15 there was a loud rumbling noise from up at the head of the bay. There was a slight pause, I thought that everything was over with, but some movement up their caught my attention out of the corner of my eye, and so I looked directly up and so what I observed was like an atomic explosion. This big splash came and then this huge wave, it looked like just a big wall of water.” said from the father. “I was only eight at the time, and me being a little boy, I was half asleep. He threw me a life preserver and said son pray, you’re looking at death. That was my first thought” With the Ulrich’s preparing their boat, and pray, they waited for the wave to come. “When the wave finally hit us I did feel the boat shooting upward… skyward. I had forty fathoms of anchor chains, and it started running out, off the boat, came to the end of the forty fathoms and snapped just like a string. And then we were free just on the front of the wave. We were swept up over the land over the trees. That’s where I assumed we were going to end up.” Two other boats that had been there were not fortunate enough to survive, carried out to sea and then wrecked.
Rolling waves gently brushed upon the sand and nipped softly at my toes. I gazed out into the oblivion of blue hue that lay before me. I stared hopefully at sun-filled sky, but I couldn’t help but wonder how I was going to get through the day. Honestly, I never thought in a million years that my daughter and I would be homeless. Oh, how I yearned for our house in the suburbs. A pain wrenched at my heart when I was once reminded again of my beloved husband, Peter. I missed him so much and couldn’t help but ask God why he was taken from us. Living underneath Pier 14 was no life for Emily and me. I had to get us out of here and back on our feet. My stomach moaned angrily. I needed to somehow find food for us, but how? Suddenly, something slimy brushed up against my leg and pierced my thoughts. I jumped back and brushed the residue of sand of my legs. What was that? As my eyes skimmed the water in front of me, I noticed something spinning in the foam of the waves. Curiosity got the best of me and I went over to take a closer look. The object danced in the waves and eventually was coughed out onto the beach. “Emily!” I called to my eight-year-old daughter who was, at that time, infatuated with a seashell that she found earlier that day. “Come here and see this! Mommy found something.” Although I had no idea what that something was and I definitely didn’t know it would change my life forever.
“In the creation of the heavens and earth, and the alternation of the night and day, and the ships which sail the seas to people's benefit, and the water which Allah sends down from the sky - by which He brings the earth to life when it was dead and scatters about in it creatures of every kind - and the varying direction of the winds, and the clouds subservient between heaven and earth, there