I, admittedly, do not pay nearly enough attention to my young cousins. This becomes deeply ironic if one were to tally up the amount of time I have spent acknowledging the “value of thought produced from society's younger members” or expressing a general awe of the human imagination, but when visiting family in small-town Georgia during the summer, the prodigious heat of the South leaves me generally unsociable and content to spend my days reading alone under the magnolias. Two of my cousins- who partly inhabit my grandfather's house due to a seemingly never-ending animus divorce- would always position themselves near me, drawing or tapping at something electronic. I had been four years old when the older of the two was born and, and in the brief window in which we were all at the same low ranking in the family, I remember constant comradery. As I finally grew into an age my sister deemed appropriate for friendship, though, the relationship I once held with my cousins seemed to simply slip away. Some years ago, during a long-lived afternoon …show more content…
“Why does fruit rot?” the other asked as we approached the farm’s most notable feature- Its large, grizzled mulberry tree. I shared a greater story, I suppose, in explaining how the tree gave the fruit life, its death by removal, the deterioration of the cell wall, and the hastening of its quietus due to microorganisms. We all three felt humbled as we sat quietly at the base of the natural monument eating the mulberries we had plucked from the tree’s lower branches. That day I had been unwittingly allowed to learn that relationships seldom die when they seem to slip away. Having now acquired the beginnings of introspection and appreciation for not only human connection, but also the relationship I have with my interests, I seem only to find myself further enamored with the beauty and brilliance of human existence on this
My friend Kyle used to live on the Blane's culdesac back in middle school. Neighborhood lore is that it's called that because Nathaniel Blane used to meet one of his lovers there, Peabody or something like that. I bet you're not here for the history lessons though, so I'll just cut to the chase about what happened last August.
Berry does not hesitate in using harsh words and metaphors like “the hamburger she is eating came from a steer who spent much of his life standing deep in his own excrement in a feedlot”(Berry 10). This provokes the readers to feeling horrible about industrial eating. He uses our pride while pointing to the lies of the make-up of industrial foods. He plays on human self-preservation when writing about chemicals in plants and animals which is out of the consumer’s control. He tries to spark a curiosity and enthusiasm, describing his own passion of farming, animal husbandry, horticulture, and gardening. The aspect of feelings and emotions is, perhaps, the strongest instrument Berry uses in making his
In Of Mice and Men, Cry, the Beloved Country, and All Quiet on the Western Front, the respective authors present the idea that relationships of all sorts, whether they be friendships or family ties, change peoples' lives even if they don't necessarily know it. Even strangers a person would never meet again could irrevocably change their lives in a matter of seconds. A smile or a kind word could have a huge amount of impact on a person's life, as could a frown or a nasty statement. Of course, friends have a much more lasting impact on a person's
Many people in the world get into an almost unbreakable routine, shielding themselves from the real world. We wake up, brush our teeth, go to school with the same people, go home, and do it all over again. Once there is a roadblock in the way, it forces us to step outside our shell and look at others views for a change. American mythologist, writer, and lecturer,Joseph Campbell once said,”We must let go of the life we have planned, so as to accept the one that is waiting for us.” It is the act of noticing others words and actions that will reshape our lives for the better. In “Secret Samantha” and “Sol Painting, Inc.” the authors suggest that observing someone else’s perspective and taking the time to understand others can be mankind's greatest
You’d think being carbon copies, a yearning would spark between the both of you, yet, an old proverb materializes in my mind and reminds me of the lukewarm truth, affection and compatibility do not correlate. Fully remembering what transpired during the trip to visit Bo, nestled in the corner of the backseat. Squarely transfixed on my iPhone, I’d wait patiently to notice my phone’s screen to illuminate with a text message from her. Meeting at the beginning of 7th grade, I grew an affection for her, an individual who had read Anna Karenina, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep, and a variety of other classics, who analyzed politics and would earnestly chat about it, willing to venture into the philosophy of life and daily tasks. We’d developed a closer tie, texting constantly as we relished conversing with each other on a daily basis, every day we would find ourselves in 6 hour conversation.Developing tenderness for her was through her tribulations. Confronting similar dilemmas bonded us, and we’d share our stories with each other, our own wistful lives. Throughout the journey to Bo’s, we’d exchange a flurry of texts; I could relive our conversations anytime during that trip. An exchange of torment, of connecting with an individual, of not sensing the idea of being solely within the abyss. Shunning an idea such as being alone is part of humanity, for who could ever remember us when were lifeless? With this particular friend, we
Under these predicaments, there is no surprise that intimacy arose between me and another captive. We became very good friends. Her name was Margery, and on account of her beautifulness, she was greatly admired, although she was a
Often when people start to drift apart, the first thing they do is stop talking. The two lovebirds in this tale, William Forrester and Helen Loomis, spent their days after meeting “reacquainting” themselves with each other. For twenty-five days straight, the two of them relived their lives for each other during conversation. They learned both were capable of engaging in stimulating conversation with each other because they had so much in common. “They talked of art, of literature, of life, society and politics[.]” (Schwiebert 251) When two people are away from each other, it...
Today was the day, months and months of practice and rehearsals leading up to today. The advice my mom had given me still running through my head, whatever happens it's part of the show, the audience does not exist, live the show. I was ready, as the opening music number was just starting up i walked on to the stage and the show began!
All my life I’ve been fat. When I was a girl, my fatness made the monkey bars incredibly hard, but I decided that I was going to persevere and do them anyway. I have never let anything stand in the way of my success, especially myself. I conquered my school’s jungle gym so successfully you could easily compare it to Alexander the Great. Since I was stubborn and wouldn't allow all my struggles to stand in the way of my eventual success, I steadily improved my monkey bar skills, and I consistently use that knowledge and perseverance in my average life.
The course wasn’t about human anatomy like I suggested, but Plant-Breeding of all damn things. April mentioned that the quantitative genetics were easy, but that Sunday I spent hours pouring over the materials.
My love of plants began with one little ragged looking 3g azalea, named Sherwood Cerise. It had outgrown its container and was taller than customers wanted, untrimmed and a little sparse for that reason. It resembled some of the beautiful bonsaied Japanese maples, twisted and contorted and lovely. I planted it for strange reasons (after a childhood of gardening, I’d sworn off plants forever), one being that I couldn’t resist its structural beauty. That was the proverbial snowball that got my love of woodies going, and soon that snowball was out of control I took home a few more “throwaways” from the little nursery where I worked and where I found “Sherry” as I called my treasure. Before I knew it, bought some little 1g guys to join the crowd. SoonI was employed by a larger nursery, one just beginning to grow and make its name, I found my
Growing up, I always found sanctuary confiding in my father’s youngest brother, Dean; I had a favorite uncle, as we all seem to have at one point in our lives. Since Uncle Dean was the youngest, I looked at him as the coolest out of the myriad of older relatives. He often bought me ice cream sundaes and showered me with aimless jokes and “piggy-back” rides. Most of the time spent visiting my father on weekends, was actually spent wrestling with Uncle Dean or playing video games until the break of daylight. I looked forward weekends, because that meant “Uncle Dean Time”. I expected to hang out with my Uncle Dean every Friday and Saturday. In fact, I knew for certain he would be waiting at my father’s home with some brand new clothes or any other prize vied for by a 10 year old. Little did I know that over the next coupe of years, I would gain knowledge of one of the most important lessons of life: value those dearest to you, for you never know how long they will be in your company.
relationships, I thought would be just like them. It was a beautiful Saturday evening, the sun had
On the edge of a small wood, an ancient tree sat hunched over, the gnarled, old king of a once vast domain that had long ago been turned to pasture. The great, gray knees gripped the hard earth with a solidity of purpose that made it difficult to determine just where the tree began and the soil ended, so strong was the union of the ancient bark and grainy sustenance. Many years had those roots known—years when the dry sands had shriveled the outer branches under a parched sun, years when the waters had risen up, drowning those same sands in the tears of unceasing time.
...suit for academic excellence and development of a professional career while neglecting several other important things in life. This can leave one unhappy and unfulfilled. Love is one of the greatest needs of man. Loving others and being loved by others is indispensable to living a fulfilled life. I agree with Morrie that “love is how you stay alive, even after you are gone” and his belief that we must "love each other or perish.” The message of the book is like a knock on the door, the decision lies with every reader to open the door of communication with better relationships to others. I choose to open mine. I chose to become more open to letting others into my world. I resolve to contribute at least a smile, a shared laughter or a compliment to those around me today because life is too unpredictable to procrastinate on giving such little indispensable gifts.