It is easy to tell it has stood the test of time but it is still daring at any forces of nature. The structure and its surrounding say a lot. It is a sight that particularly fills me with feelings of nostalgia. Whenever I stare at it…
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At the same time, I felt it was also the time for everything in the surrounding to listen to me pour out the nostalgic feelings that filled me; how just the other day we lived in the structure with dad, mommy and my sisters and how things have changed beyond the point of no return. At the door, I am welcome by the woodpecker, which takes a flight. As the door opens, it seems to it cannot mince the joy of meeting one of its masters again, as evidenced by the production of screech sounds by the hinges. As I get in, I find the building inclusions smiling at me. The pictures on the wall, the furniture, the falling ceiling seem to be saying ‘son, welcome back. We have never missed you’. It is a place that one would love to stay.
I take a walk around to explore the full feelings. I rediscover the other part of this world. I discern that the structure stands isolated at the end of the ranch. The structure is now old seem to be on the final stages of its life. By looking at the structure, one can derive a lot of unpleasant memories. The remaining trees and few stumps do not seem to be moved by the unfolding events. As walk, my feet interact with the dried leaves that seem to give unwelcoming sound. Even the few daffodils at the entrance can only be described as lonely and displaced. The woodpecker has taken over the cottage door and takes a scary flight. As I open the door, it is apparent the hinges were hardly prepared to see me again. As I come to face with what is in the building, everything, including the pictures on the wall, the furniture and the falling ceiling seem to be lamenting on why I had forsaken them. The only smell is that of the decomposing woods and memories. I totally feel out of place.
I chose to write on dad old cottage because it grants me the opportunity to describe both positive and negative attributes from my own experiences. In my first impression of the
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It is the sight that particularly fills me with feelings of nostalgia. Whenever I stare at it surrounding, I happen to notice the trees beckoning me. As I walk, the leaves on the ground seem to produce the sound that welcomes me back, saying ‘long time no see!
This was made entirely evident as the airplane oftentimes shook and one wondered if the very nuts and bolts that held the jet together would unravel themselves and the very machine crash and fall to pieces over the ocean. The sounds of other passengers seemed to carry exceptionally well, as every unsettling conversation, complaint, and sick passenger could be heard.
Green long lasting hundreds of years old trees, floating sound of short waterfalls, small self-constructed aqueducts carrying cold, icy and hurtling water moving down the mountains as I touched the water a ray of frost went through my soul. Above all the sun cuddling with clouds, materializing rain drops into rainbow (Law et al., 2007), disseminating colors like shower took my heart that made me feel swimming into this colorful pond of nature.
The essay notes that the airplane experience was compromised because of the cramped nature of the seating. In these regards, it states, As the airplane left the ground and the loud sound of babies crying began, it was clear that the flight was going to be trying. The seats were bunched next to each other like eggs in a carton.
A change in the text’s point of view can alter its entire meaning. An ironic commentary for instance can be mistaken for an uncritical observation if the irony is not marked. In “The Gift of the Magi”, the narration is in a third-person mode. The narrator is largely objective, recounting details of the Youngs’ life without too many subjective reactions.
A clear description is given out by the narrator of Paulus and Thebedi education background, physical appearance, daily lives and much more of their lives. The narrator gives instances of their childhood
The fragrance of pink roses and bottlebrush at my back wafting through the air drives me crazy. The wind filled with this fragrance slapping my face feels like somebody is constantly spraying an air freshener at my face. The fragrance is just too
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