Preserving the Fall
Starts with a photograph, a frame of reference. Steve seems deeply meditative, sitting cross-legged, hands exploring some invisible blade of grass, plucking some wildflower blossom from its stem. Eyes downcast, content, absorbed in this task of dissecting nature, shredding it. Curved back, sunlight painted onto the sleeve of his sweater, the sweater I borrowed to go hiking in the Sierras, both of our knobby joints contributing to its decay around the elbows, gray, true to its color even in black and white. He was warm that day, I imagine.
The background: Middle Run–the largely unexplored natural area of Newark, DE–again. It is a field here, used in some months to grow straw, but is flanked by forest, contained by it. I would always come here on Sunday afternoons, looking for adventure, recruiting one or two friends to be the subject of my photography. I never tired of this game, of making the hike to that hidden field, of placing people in that context, nestled among bales of hay, stiff grass, those horizons, sudden leaps from sky to straw, straw to trees. Transitions. Changes. Weekend to weekday, human to nature, past to future.
The cornfields there remain unexplored territory. I understand that they are part of an experiment, that the University of Delaware agricultural science department studies these plants’ genes, breeds them, cross-pollinates. They hope to find the perfect stalk of corn, the highest yielding, the most nutritious kernels. I too must experiment, must search out something of greater quality.
Certain seasons find the corn healthy, tall and strong. Productive. They give this place a sense of life, hope. At other times, only wilted stalks remain, consumed by the threat of decay, crackling the sounds of death, of loss and cold beneath heavily traipsing feet. This many dead plants are arresting, an assault to the visual sense and sense of gravity, of time, one I would like to capture in a photograph.
I have come to this place in all seasons, have thrown snowballs, run barefoot in the grass here. But I always picture it in Fall, associate it with cyclical death. It is strange to love, to come back to this time the most, strange to find solace in the thoughts of leaves falling, disintegrating, of declining temperatures, shortening days, and the stark emptiness of the suddenly and awkwardly naked forest.
As he slouches in bed, a description of the bare trees and an old woman gathering coal are given to convey to the reader an idea of the times and the author's situation. "All groves are bare," and "unmarried women (are) sorting slate from arthracite." This image operates to tell the reader that it is a time of poverty, or a "yellow-bearded winter of depression." No one in the town has much to live for during this time. "Cold trees" along with deadness, through the image of "graves," help illustrate the author's impression of winter. Wright seems to be hibernating from this hard time of winter, "dreaming of green butterflies searching for diamonds in coal seams." This conveys a more colorful and happy image showing what he wishes was happening; however he knows that diamonds are not in coal seams and is brought back to the reality of winter. He talks of "hills of fresh graves" while dreaming, relating back to the reality of what is "beyond the streaked trees of (his) window," a dreary, povern-strucken, and cold winter.
... alive. Dillard’s language in her description of the landscape not only makes it vivid for the reader, but mimics the sense of rhythmic movement which she assigns to the land as well. Dillard’s use of repetition, sound devices, metaphor, images and active verbs create for the reader a sense of fluid, changing language on a page, which in turn describes an apparently fluid and changing landscape. The final image of the oscillograph, while indicative of an inorganic process, measures the activity witnessed by Dillard, reflecting itself upon the image of the forest. Perhaps an oscillograph of Dillard’s writing in this passage during her transcendent moment would also generate rhythmic waves and currents, progressing and yet doubling back, continues and full of movement and life.
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
The arrival of winter was well on its way. Colorful leaves had turned to brown and fallen from the branches of the trees. The sky opened to a new brightness with the disappearance of the leaves. As John drove down the country road he was much more aware of all his surroundings. He grew up in this small town and knew he would live there forever. He knew every landmark in this area. This place is where he grew up and experienced many adventures. The new journey of his life was exciting, but then he also had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach of something not right.
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.
The maize, or corn, experiment was conducted to observe the results of a monohybrid or a dihybrid cross between two different types of corn. This particular experiment required samples of various types of dried corn, preferably corn the sustain features between color and texture. These different colors and textures include purple, yellow, sugary (smooth), or starchy (wrinkled), respectively. The experiment is started by taking an individual stalk of corn from each type available, in this case three different types. Each stalk of corn was then observed carefully and their kernels were being observed, and counted
Roe Daphne A. 1973. A plague of corn: the social history of pellagra. Ithaca, London: Cornell University Press.
Again, this section will give a working definition of the “urban question’. To fully compare the political economy and ecological perspectives a description of the “urban question” allows the reader to better understand the divergent schools of thought. For Social Science scholars, from a variety of disciplines, the “urban question” asks how space and the urban or city are related (The City Reader, 2009). The perspective that guides the ecological and the social spatial-dialect schools of thought asks the “urban question” in separate distinct terminology. Respected scholars from the ecological mode of thinking, like Burgess, Wirth and others view society and space from the rationale that geographical scope determines society (The City Reader, 2009). The “urban question” that results from the ecological paradigm sees the relationship between the city (space) as influencing the behaviors of individuals or society in the city. On the other hand...
... condenses on the lawns and there is a new grass smell in the air, or those winter afternoons when it just finishes snowing and the ground is unmarked. I wait for those days to put on my no longer shiny, squeaky, new running shoes, put on a pair of running shorts and take off down the street with no direction in mind to wherever my legs take me. And now, I slow down from time to time just to see how the sun reflects off the bay, or the distant biker that is just coming around the bend of the trail. I set my legs to an eight minute mile pace and collect Jamie at his apartment and we continue along the trail, our legs lazily moving the earth beneath us, our mouths idly engaged in conversations about the day while breathing in that manner Coach Frerichs taught us about. After all, the blood in our bodies travels almost 12,000 miles in a day. We’re only doing five.
Standing on the balcony, I gazed at the darkened and starry sky above. Silence surrounded me as I took a glimpse at the deserted park before me. Memories bombarded my mind. As a young girl, the park was my favourite place to go. One cold winter’s night just like tonight as I looked upon the dark sky, I had decided to go for a walk. Wrapped up in my elegant scarlet red winter coat with gleaming black buttons descending down the front keeping away the winter chill. Wearing thick leggings as black as coal, leather boots lined with fur which kept my feet cozy.
Kipfer, Saber, Wieditz, "Henri Lefebvre: Debates and controversies", in Progress in Human Geography, 37(1), 2013, Sage, pp. 115-134.
My walk along Highland Park surrounded by with the water’s quiet flow that moves through the land, separating the two sides that were once connected. The waterfowl escape the heat of the sun by swimming happily with the current and in the process, diving to catch lunch. Trees are scattered all over the grass, soaring high above the ground creating homes for those who live by the sky. The dirt, leaves, bark, and water create the smell best classified as Earth, enriched by the uprooted trees from Mother Nature’s wrath. An old giant lay across the water connecting the two sides once again, similarly to the synthetic bridge conveniently located before the trees begin to hug the road.
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".
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.
The sunset was not spectacular that day. The vivid ruby and tangerine streaks that so often caressed the blue brow of the sky were sleeping, hidden behind the heavy mists. There are some days when the sunlight seems to dance, to weave and frolic with tongues of fire between the blades of grass. Not on that day. That evening, the yellow light was sickly. It diffused softly through the gray curtains with a shrouded light that just failed to illuminate. High up in the treetops, the leaves swayed, but on the ground, the grass was silent, limp and unmoving. The sun set and the earth waited.