Walking, there is no end in sight: stranded on a narrow country road for all eternity. It is almost dark now. The clouds having moved in secretively. When did that happen? I am so far away from all that is familiar. The trees are groaning against the wind’s fury: when did the wind start blowing? Have I been walking for so long that time hysterically slipped away! The leaves are rustling about swirling through the air like discarded post-it notes smashing, slapping against the trees and blacktop, “splat-snap”. Where did the sun go? It gave the impression only an instant ago, or had it been longer; that it was going to be a still and peaceful sunny day; has panic from hunger and walking so long finally crept in? Waking up this morning, had I been warned of the impending day, the highs and lows that I would soon face, and the unexpected twist of fate that awaited me, I would have stayed in bed. It was a sunny day. The leftovers of last week’s snowstorm still blanketed most of the surrounding area. I decided, after straggling about the house for nearly two hours, lethargy slowly creeping in, that I would go for a drive. I leaped in my trusty old Maverick and roared away. The Maverick, which I bought in 1975, was dark blue, (my favorite color). It was a steal and only ten years past its prime. It was a good, trustworthy car and until today, I had not had any problems with it. This was a spontaneous kind of getaway, so nothing was planned, no basket of food prepared, nor did I make any other preparations. Living in the city can be depressing so getting away from the concrete jungle for a few hours was a welcomed escape. I have not lived in this city for very long, although I knew the names of the adjoining towns, there were a few that I did not know. However, being the adventurer that I am, I drove off in a direction that I have never been. I do not know why I did not think to look at the gas gauge before I left perhaps I was too preoccupied with the thought of fleeing that I did not care. After two and a half hours of Driving, on an old narrow country road, maneuvering the Maverick to its full potential I began to sense the problem with my car even before it actually happened.
The Lost Boys of Sudan was about 17,000 boys. Some of the boys died of starvation hunger, dehydration or by getting eaten by animals during the journey to a place of safety. Although this may seem like a made-up story. it wasn’t. It was all real to salva, a lost boy in Sudan who survived the journey. This young boy (Salva) endured long walks to camps across the country, becoming a leader and making a positive impact on water in sudan which was a consistent struggle in Sudan. This boy has been written about in a book called “A Long Walk To Water” By Linda Sue Park. Salva’s life wasn’t easy as we read in the book. Salva has lived and survived with these survival factors: Hope, Persistent and Bravery.
The world view of the Navajo who had lived for many centuries on the high Colorado Plateau was one of living in balance with all of nature, as the stewards of their vast homeland which covered parts of four modern states. They had no concept of religion as being something separate from living day to day and prayed to many spirits. It was also a matriarchal society and had no single powerful leader as their pastoral lifestyle living in scattered independent family groups require no such entity. This brought them repeatedly into conflict with Spanish, Mexicans and increasingly by the mid-nineteenth century, Americans as these practices were contrary to their male dominated religiously monolithic societal values. The long standing history of raiding between all these groups and particularly the taking of women and children who were forced into slavery was extremely distasteful to their western Christian morality. The practice had been carried out among the native tribes for centuries and had spread among the Spanish and Mexicans as they began to enter the territory and was the most serious cause of insecurity in the eyes of Maj. Edward Canby, who found himself the senior Union officer in the New Mexico Territory as the Civil War heated up.
cold, harsh, wintry days, when my brothers and sister and I trudged home from school burdened down by the silence and frigidity of our long trek from the main road, down the hill to our shabby-looking house. More rundown than any of our classmates’ houses. In winter my mother’s riotous flowers would be absent, and the shack stood revealed for what it was. A gray, decaying...
As you can imagine I was contributing my fair share of all the clamor, but after about seven hours it soon became apparent that the effect of energy drinks would wear off. If you could have been there and looked around you would have seen some people reading, other talking amongst themselves; however, I was playing halo on my laptop. About two hours later after just getting into Colorado everything bad you can imagine started happening. I was asleep at this time, but when I heard the loud BOOM!, SNAP!, and HISS, I was instantly awake and wondering what had just happened. At first everyone thought it was just a blow out, but after our youth pastor got out and checked all the tires it soon became clear that there was a much bigger problem at hand. So our youth pastor decided we should call a mechanic and a tow truck, the problem was deciding if we should call...
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.
From 1863-1868, the Navajos, or Diné, found themselves the target of a major campaign by the Union Army and surrounding enemies in the American Southwest, resulting in a program of removal and internment. This series of events is known to the Navajos as the “Long Walk” where as a people the Navajos were devastated by acts of violence from multiple factions of enemies. The perspectives of Navajos regarding the “Long Walk” can grant a new context to the changes occurring in the American Southwest during the American Civil War, where the focus of the Union’s military might fell upon Native Americans instead of Confederate forces. Thus, rather than as a program of Indian removal resulting from the Civil War militarization of the Southwest. Navajos
As I inched my way toward the cliff, my legs were shaking uncontrollably. I could feel the coldness of the rock beneath my feet when my toes curled around the edge in one last futile attempt at survival. My heart was racing like a trapped bird, desperate to escape. Gazing down the sheer drop, I nearly fainted; my entire life flashed before my eyes. I could hear stones breaking free and fiercely tumbling down the hillside, plummeting into the dark abyss of the forbidding black water. The trees began to rapidly close in around me in a suffocating clench, and the piercing screams from my friends did little to ease the pain. The cool breeze felt like needles upon my bare skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps. The threatening mountains surrounding me seemed to grow more sinister with each passing moment, I felt myself fighting for air. The hot summer sun began to blacken while misty clouds loomed overhead. Trembling with anxiety, I shut my eyes, murmuring one last pathetic prayer. I gathered my last breath, hoping it would last a lifetime, took a step back and plun...
Question: Discuss the transformation that occurs in Landon?s life due to the influence of Jamie Sullivan.
In January, 1864 the Long Walk began which forced the removal of the native Americans commonly known as the Navajo. It all started when Americans of European descent started to settle on Navajo lands and problems started to rise. The Americans then came up with a “solution” to move all Navajos to Fort Sumner. The people who took part in the Long Walk were the Americans of European descent, U.S, and the Navajos. The Americans wanted more lands so the U.S. Took over that land and that caused problems erupt with the Navajo and the Americans. This event is important to American history because it was a tragic event in history because the tensions were so high between the whites and the native Americans. As a result the Native Americans signed
With stress on my mind and a cookie in my hand, I headed towards the wooded area behind her home. At the beginning of the trail, there was an old rotting tire swing barely hanging onto a low-hanging branch. The extensive amount of muddy puddles and the surrounding damp grass made me hesitant to follow through with my grandmother’s suggestion; the mountain of homework that waited for me back at home convinced me to continue. Trees towered over me, adding to the existing weight of stress that sat upon my shoulders, as I carefully maneuvered around the biggest puddles, beginning to become frustrated. Today was a terrible day to go for a walk, so why would my grandmother suggest this? Shaking my head in frustration, I pushed forward. The trail was slightly overgrown. Sharp weeds stabbed my sides every few steps, and I nearly tripped over a fallen tree branch. As the creek barely came into view, I could feel the humidity making my hair curly and stick to the sides of my face. After stopping to roll up the ends of my worn blue jeans, I neared the end of the trail. Bright sunlight peeked through the branches and reflected off the water. The sun must have come out from behind a cloud, seeing as it now blinded me as I neared the water. A few minutes passed by before I could clearly see
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.
I slowly trudged up the road towards the farm. The country road was dusty, and quiet except for the occasional passing vehicle. Only the clear, burbling sound of a wren’s birdsong sporadically broke the boredom. A faded sign flapped lethargically against the gate. On it, a big black and white cow stood over the words “Bent Rail Farm”. The sign needed fresh paint, and one of its hinges was broken. Suddenly, the distant roar of an engine shattered the stillness of that Friday afternoon. Big tires speeding over gravel pelted small stones in all directions. The truck stopped in front of the red-brick farmhouse with the green door and shutters. It was the large milking truck that stopped by every Friday afternoon. I leisurely passed by fields of corn, wheat, barley, and strawberries. The fields stretched from the gradient hills to the snowy mountains. The blasting wind blew like a bellowing blizzard. A river cut through the hilly panorama. The river ubiquitously flowed from tranquil to tempestuous water. Raging river rapids rushed recklessly into rocks ricocheting and rebounding relentlessly through this rigorous river. Leaves danced with the wind as I looked around the valley. The sun was trapped by smoky, and soggy clouds.
The car's V-8 engine roared as the driver slammed the pedal to the ground. A wicked smile graced his lips. In in his mind it was all over. Unable to accept the idea of being roadkill, I did the only thing I could.....I turned the handlebars of my bike with all my might, veered off the road and into a nearby yard.
"Hey, be careful and don't do anything stupid," my dad said to me right before I hopped into Chase Miller's dark blue Chevy S-10 with a camper shell on the back. I looked at Chase and Tyler Becker and said, "Let's go camping." As Chase pushed down the gas pedal, a big cloud of black smoke shot out of the back of the truck and the smell of burning motor oil filled the cab.
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.