A silver slithering beast approaches, coming to a screeching halt only to remind me just how late I’m running this chilly morning. The beast opens it’s unforgiving jaws only to consume as many displeased faces as it does every other fast paced morning weekday. I look around seeing visibly tired, weary faces reluctantly making their way to where they have to be. I race a Russian woman to a seat and plop down to find some solitude in a game I’ve become rather fond of. Letting out a deep breath, the train starts moving, slowly at first, but speeding up to the appropriate 30-35 mph range. ‘Pfft.’ Even the train sounds like it doesn’t want to be here right now. As I allow my Subway Surfers boot up, I close my eyes momentarily to remind myself how I felt the previous afternoon. I grab my shoes as I …show more content…
The two minute time constraint is putting some serious pressure on me. I had planned to make it all the way to the water in my timed session of observation, but already it is clear that is impossible. As I walk, I try to divert my attention from the cold by taking a deep breath. The air tastes clean and crisp but burns my lungs going down. I’m sure the near freezing air isn’t conducive to my lungs healing from my recent pneumonia battle, but I brush of the thought of self preservation by reassuring myself that by wearing many layers, I have taken all necessary precautions to not get sick again. The sun is just barely starting to dim the lights and the clouds are a bit ominous, but in a wonderful, calming way. The silence is unusual, but the faint sound of the wind and the waves in the distance give the feeling of a warm blanket. The sound is absolutely intoxicating! This is where I feel most ‘at New York.’ It is not in the center of Times Square, or Central Park, it’s the loneliness of the cold winter beach that makes me feel at home. If I could just bottle this feeling and bring it everywhere I go, I would be so
Prisoners were subject to freezing experiments as scientists looked for an effective treatment for hypothermia. Scientists also wanted to discover how long German pilots downed by enemy fire could survive the frozen waters of the North Sea. Some were forced in a tank of ice water at sub-zero temperatures for up to five hours. Others were left outside to freeze in the winter cold. Numerous victims lost consciousness and died when their body temperature dropped to 25 degrees Celsius. It was also found that humans could not survive immersion in the North Sea for more than two hours. By studying the effects of this cold exposure and meticulously noting the changes in the subject’s body temperature, heart rate, and muscle response...
Deep breath, icy wind flows through her nostrils as her eyes drift closed. Silence the mind. Silence the obnoxious chatter. She shouldn’t think of that awful exam, she tells herself. She shouldn’t worry about how hurtful someone else’s comments were to her. Deep breath. Hold. Her shoulders slump. The wind howls around her, snow falls lulling the world into a dreamscape. Finally, there is silence. Goosebumps grow upward on her flesh, a shiver shakes her back, but there is no response. The cold has no effect, she is finally at peace. Mind empty, focusing on the now, she breathes until her body is relaxed and her mind is content
When the man starts this journey he is unaware of the fate that Mother Nature has in store for him. The weather is seventy five below zero, his beard is frozen and caked in amber icicles from spitting his dip out. The longer the man walks his cheeks start to get frost bit and he rubs them to attempt to keep the feeling, he continues to push forward brushing the problem off not thinking anything about it.” Bit painful, that was all; they were never serious.” (3). Sublime to the slow effects the weather is having on him, he stops around noon for a lunch break. Instead of immediately building a f...
The captain and his crew were traveling during the navigation season but they were facing fog and icebergs on their way. They were stuck in ice and mist for a whole day. Finally, around two o?clock the fog and mist was gone and they could only see the endless ice surrounding them. Some of the captain?s crew began to regret their situation and even the captain had some anxious thoughts. They realized that it could be a dead end. They were uncertain where to go and of their situation.
Sarah, with her energeticness, found a way to persuade me to finally ride the dragster. My heart was pounding loudly with quasi-hesitation. With that fast pass that I won during a game of plinko, we had to wait 5 at the most for the front row of the train. It was a better choice than having to “patiently” wait in a one hour line with the hot sun baking your back. We were only a few launches away from moving into the ride station. The theme song, “Ready to Go” by Republica, was being played in the station. When I heard this song, I felt everything but “ready to go.” There were two seats across per row on each train which didn’t make the regular line go faster. All I could think about was the death-defying plunge down the one unbelievable 420-foot hill, I had pre-ride jitters. The train moved to the “starting line”, also known as the launch area. My thin legs trembled as I thought, this is it. Ever since that first glance, my heart rate increased. I heard a loud motor revving sound effect. Arms down, head back, and hold on. I found the brief message nettlesome, because it was frequently
The arrival to Manhattan was like an entry to a whole new world: from the sea, its breezes, color, and landscapes, to the heart of the city beating louder than ever at the Whitehall Terminal. I could smell New York’s bagels in Battery Park with a mixture of the most relaxing scents: the coffee people were holding while walking down the streets, the old walls of Castle Clinton ...
It was a cold crisp Thursday morning, and three of my buddies and I are about to go moose hunting. We are going down to my cabin in a place called Taylor's Bay, which is about a nine-mile ride from our town by boat. The only way to get to it is by boat, so the weather was good, there was no wind and that would make for a great trip on the water. The weather has to be real bad if I can't get back in my boat because it is a 26 foot fiberglass boat that is really seaworthy and it has a shelter up on the front and that will keep all our supplies dry.
She illustrates how they are cozy, warm and comfortable in the house but there is a sense of something missing. On the surface, the situation seems comfortable, happy and good but underlying is the feeling of loneliness, depression and coldness. The mother’s feeling contrasts very well with the outside environment being cold, dead and quiet. As the ex-husband comes back, the mood changes entirely. The mother describes the house as a “Warm kitchen on a cloudless night.” (Coleman 43). Coleman used the same environment to produce two entirely different views on the
In the month of December, New York City is such a crazy place! I walked down the street and was awestruck when I saw the most realized natural vision in the middle of New York City. It was a large hardwood plantation covered in these reflective beacons that hovered over an elliptical gathering spot. Here people were taking pictures and gliding across a frozen bond while wearing covers for their feet with small blades attached at the bottom for a more controllable slide. There seemed to be humans, both big and small, all with smiles, observing and enjoying each other's presence. Every time I tried to confront somebody there was always something else preoccupying their time. This seemed like everybody's favorite recreational distraction. It all took place at a gathering called the Rockefeller Center. Happiness was practically in the air that the humans breathe. They had a tunnel vision for their friends and family and that seems like it was all that was necessary. It was hectic, yet in a very weird way peaceful, but surely not based upon the commotion. No, it was based upon everybody’s worries disappearing with the feeling of flight as they glide across this frozen liquid surface and feel the cold wind blow in their faces. It’s a good thing everyone was bundled up wearing multiple layers one after another.
However, the 4 train resides with me because it gives me the chance to explore the subway thoroughly. It’s always a scary feeling as the 4 train approaches the train station because it sounds like a pack of Rhinos crashing into a halt. I enter the train and quickly gaze of a seat because I know people will be racing to any open seats available. Luckily I found two empty seats and that’s where my luck ended because right next to me sat a drunk who smelled like he had been drinking gallons of liquor. Everyone around him decided to get up and move somewhere else. I decided to move carts because I can’t stand the smell of liquor. That might have been a good thing because I walked right into someone signing “Barcelona by Bill Newman.” After he finished signing I was the only one who clapped and the man turned around and gave me a big smile that I still remember till today. Most people were far too busy listening to their earbuds and didn’t even acknowledge him singing. There were no chatter or laughter, everyone is minding their own business. The mood gradually became positive as more teenagers and kids entered the train. The train ride just became a news source because you can year the gossips or the latest
In her narrative essay, “FYB”, Zadie Smith expresses her belief that if one redirects their mindset to a more limited perspective and uses the limitless Manhattan mentality at certain times, one can arrive at their beach. A beach is a mentality, and Smith finds her beach by coming to peace with Manhattan’s beach. The idea of a person’s “beach” being hard to discover may be observed through Smith’s personal background, as it is almost mythical for this English writer living in Soho, Manhattan to come by a beach.
As the plot unfolds, I feel the story's protagonist falls victim to several factors brought into play at once: his inexperience with the severity of the Klondike winters, his inability to envision the possible consequences of his decision to travel alone in such weather, a series of unfortunate events during his trip, and the misjudgment exercised in his attempts to survive those incidents. Though quick and alert, the man's lack of imagination renders him unable to visualize what might happen to a man traveling without a companion should adverse circumstances arise in such severe weather in an uninhabited landscape. When he indeed finds himself in dire straits as a result of getting wet in the brutal freezing weather, he once again fails to imagine how quickly the cold will threaten his life and consequently misjudges the severity of his situation. His poor judgment causes him to make one mistake after another until he finds himself incapable of extricating himself from his situation. It seems obvious that had he made himself more familiar with the culture of the land and paid attention to the warnings of the old-timer on Sulpher Creek, he might have chosen to delay his trip and live to travel another day.
I step into the hall of my home in Chicago, Illinois, and into the kitchen. Rain cascades down the windowpane, such has been the case for much of Novmber. There is a plate of spaghetti Bolognese waiting right on the counter for me. I heat it up, and take it to my study, letting the aroma waft right past my nose. Turning on the stereo, I settle back in my leather, over-cushioned armchair with a long, relaxed sigh. The stereo always starts on Classic Rock radio station. Hard rock, that’s what I love best. I open the Wall Street Journal, sub-consciously listening to the music in the background. Bliss.
There is no such thing as silence here. Everything jumps out at once, like the feathers on a peacock, immediately catching your attention. There are uncountable masses of colorful blobs moving, but within that great glob, there are many people, each person moving with the powerful confidence of a lion. The buildings all loom over the people, a grand oak tree above thousands of ants, tying together this concrete landscape. There is a tangible atmosphere of wonder, and you are left in awe of such an astonishing place. This magnificent place is none other than Times Square in New York City.
I have always been fascinated by carnival rides. It amazes me that average, ordinary people eagerly trade in the serenity of the ground for the chance to be tossed through the air like vegetables in a food processor. It amazes me that at some time in history someone thought that people would enjoy this, and that person invented what must have been the first of these terrifying machines. For me, it is precisely the thrill and excitement of having survived the ride that keeps me coming back for more.