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My favorite smell, probably his, hers, and theirs too, is the smell of freshly cut grass. It’s a little bit sad, actually, that I like the smell of dead organisms, murdered by the hired mower or my grandfather or the obnoxious neighbors who play their drums loudly every Friday. The smell of freshly cut grass brings me back to the time before my parents split up, nearly eight years ago. I feel like I’ve time-traveled to the years of 2009 and 2010. Those were good years. My family of five, myself included, would go on road trips reaching as far as the border of Kansas to the coniferous trees of the Rocky Mountains. There’s a particular memory that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget. Imagine being four years old and sitting in a Honda
In The Sense of Wonder, Carson, and her nephew are exploring the different landscapes of Maine. Carson tells us senses are important while exploring nature saying, “ Sense other than sight can prove avenues of delight and discovery, storing up for us memories and impressions” (Carson, 83). She first explains the way a smell can help us while exploring nature saying,” For the sense of smell, almost more than any other, has the power to recall memories and it is a pity that we use it so little” (Carson, 83). Smell just like any other sense is important, but the smell does remind us of memories lost before. The smell of grandma 's house or fresh baked cookies can remind us of many memories. The second sense Carson emphasizes is hearing. She explains, “ Hearing can be a source of even more exquisite pleasure, but I require conscious cultivation” (Carson, 84). Hearing, epically while exploring in nature, can be beautiful. The crack of leaves while you walk or the sound of birds ringing in your ear can be music through your ears. In The Sense of Wonder, Carson urges us to use all of our sense, use emotions and abandon teaching while exploring nature.
There is a serene moment when reading John Muir “A Windstorm in the forests,” that rushed through me. Which can only be described as a rush of emotions that one might face when returning home after traveling for so long. I feel that this response is so far harder to write than I could have imagined it to be because the forest Muir is describing within his story, within the Sierra Nevada is one that I grew up with. The same ones that I spent my summers and winter breaks at, I feel a slight struggle when trying to describe my response because I didn’t realize how much I miss all of that and how many of my memories are surrounded by that forest. Reading Muir story brought back the images of seeing stretches of land covered in an endless amount
Zig-zag, back and forth, down, down, down, Jonathon, Dad, and I went into a mysterious new world. Now that I have gone into this hot, dry canyon surrounded by monstrous hoodoos, I have seen what it is really like to leave the small town of Seymour, and emerge into the greatness of this world. I have now seen several other National Parks on one of the most renowned places on earth for mysterious creations, the Colorado Plateau. Of all the beautiful places on it, even the Grand Canyon, I have found my favorite one. Bryce Canyon National Park. I thought it was amazing, because it was the most diverse to anything I have ever seen before. We hiked down into it and I felt like I was surrounded by skyscrapers. We trekked around a little, but we didn’t
It was a most beautiful season; never did the fields bestow a more plentiful harvest, or the vines yield a more luxuriant vintage; but my eyes were insensible to the charms of nature. And the same feelings which made me neglect the scenes around me caused me also to forget those friends who were so many miles away, and whom I had not seen for so long.
My youth pastor pulled out of our church parking lot at three am in the morning loaded down with a bus full of twenty four teenagers including me. We were off at last head to Colorado Spring Colorado, little did I know, our bus was going to fall apart this very day.
A significant moment in her life was the time she moved from Hawaii to Colorado. It was not a smooth transition between two completely different places. Nevertheless, she would manage to fall in love with Colorado just as much as her Hawaiian home.
One of the best family trips that I have been on occurred when I was about 8 years old. My family and I were invited to go on a 4th of July camping trip to Telluride by some family friends that have 5 kids the same ages as our kids. Several other good friends were also invited to join us. We prepared our camping gear, loaded up the car and hooked up our trailer with our Polaris Ranger. The long drive to Telluride was 7 hours and it felt like it took forever because we were so excited to arrive. Even though the drive up their wasn’t fun at all, the reward was great.
As I walked through the door of the funeral home, the floral arrangements blurred into a sea of vivid colors. Wiping away my tears, I headed over to the collage of photographs of my grandfather. His smile seemed to transcend the image on the pictures, and for a moment, I could almost hear his laughter and see his eyes dancing as they tended to do when he told one of his famous jokes. My eyes scanned the old photographs, searching for myself amidst the images. They came to rest on a photo of Grandpa holding me in his lap when I was probably no more than four years old. The flowers surrounding me once again blended into an array of hues as I let my mind wander……
I almost fell off a cliff on the side of a mountain. I was in Pitkin, Colorado, on a camping trip during the summer of 2009. The trees were green, the air was fresh so were the lakes, rivers, and ponds were stocked with fish and wildlife was everywhere. Usually, on these camping trips, I would be accompanied by a large number of people. However, this time, it was just my parents, my three brothers, and my two sisters. I was almost 12 years old at the time and having three older brothers made me very competitive. Naturally, when my family decided to climb one of the mountain’s which were around us, I wanted to be the first one to reach its peak.
In hiking, as in life, there are choices between success and pain, pride and safety; this is the story of one such choice. Last summer I participated in the Rayado program at Philmont Scout Ranch. The eighth day of the trek was my crew’s greatest challenge: Super Black Death, a hike of seven peaks in one day.
The year before kindergarten, my family went on a road trip. We went to Mall of America in Minnesota. My mom used to do Creative Memories so we had to go to Minnesota for her showcase. We picked up my cousin Mark, and we were on our way. We went to a huge hotel with a pool slide that looped in and out of the building. The pool was also very large.
Looking back on a childhood filled with events and memories, I find it rather difficult to pick on that leaves me with the fabled “warm and fuzzy feelings.” As the daughter of an Air Force Major, I had the pleasure of traveling across America in many moving trips. I have visited the monstrous trees of the Sequoia National Forest, stood on the edge of the Grande Canyon and have jumped on the beds at Caesar’s Palace in Lake Tahoe. However, I have discovered that when reflecting on my childhood, it is not the trips that come to mind, instead there are details from everyday doings; a deck of cards, a silver bank or an ice cream flavor.
The lasting smell neither good nor bad, of cattails filled my nose every time I visited my grandma. The long hearty stems of the cattails seemed impossible to break, but they were always plucked. We longed to pull the soft brown tips apart and watch the fluffy pieces float off into the air.
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.
One of the most enjoyable things in life are road trips, particularly to the Colorado mountains. Getting to spend time with your family and friends, while being in a beautiful place, is irreplaceable. The fifteen-hour road trip may feel never-ending, but gazing at the mountains from afar makes life’s problems seem a little smaller and causes worries to become a thing of the past. Coming in contact with nature, untouched, is a surreal experience. My family trip to the Colorado mountains last summer was inspiring.