Act 2 Scene 3 Friar Lawrence: The smiling morning is replacing the frowning night. Darkness is stumbling out of the sun’s path like a drunk man. Now, before the sun comes up and burns away the dew, I have to fill this basket of mine with poisonous weeds and medicinal flowers. The Earth is nature’s mother and also nature’s tomb. Plants are born out of the Earth, and they are buried in the Earth when they die.
It has been recorded at a number of sites within the park. The fungus has the potential to impact of the vegetation, especially along the heathy ridge tops where grass trees are dying. It also affects a lot of the native vegetation and causes the death of a lot of other species. The disease spreads naturally but also through infected soil when transportation travel over it. Quarantine and vehicle hygiene to limit the spread can only be achieved my
This coming of age story has a lot of sadness juxtaposed by excitement and enthusiasm about what the future brings. Watching Little Tree grow is not only interesting, but also intriguing as you watch him apply lessons learned by his grandfather. This is framed by highly descriptive and colorful descriptions about the natural world that Little Tree lives in. The Education of Little Tree book cover Goodreads.com (2012) While the author and the story have come under fire for several reasons I’ll outline later, the story has still been considered a classic, drawing people in for its messages about simple living and loving the world around you. Summary Summary The story begins with the passing of this unknown boy’s mother, which we learn takes place only a year after his father’s passing.
The brook was thrown Deep in a sewer dungeon under stone In fetid darkness still to live and run -- And all for nothing it had ever done Except forget to go in fear perhaps. No one would know except for ancient maps That such a brook ran water. But I wonder If from its being kept forever under, The thoughts may not have risen that so keep This new-built city from both work and
my hands are as purple as the mangled bodies lying about. I see rats the size of dogs attacking the dismembered limbs, and the sight was almost to much to bear. Tatters of army uniform, like my own are flown about everywhere as i peep above the trench. Thick, gassy aromas make my stomach churn as i do so.
Round hayfields, cornfields and potato-drills We trekked and picked until the cans were full Until the tinkling bottom had been covered With green ones, and on top big dark blobs burned Like a plate of eyes. Our hands were peppered With thorn pricks, our palms sticky as Bluebeard's. We hoarded the fresh berries in the byre. But when the bath was filled we found a fur, A rat-grey fungus, glutting on our cache. The juice was stinking too.
You will not believe the conditions I have been living in. They are somewhat cruel, disgusting, dreadful and fearful. Something even I am to disturbed to look at is the rat infestation, mom you know how much I hate rats, well now I basically live with them, like they’re my pets. Millions of rats would gorge themselves on human remains. Other pests that are available here are frogs, they’re found in shell holes and in the base of our trenches.
I close my eyes and see frogs and beetles lined in the trenches filled with knee-high water. I can smell the pervasive stench of feces, body odor, and death. I see the maggots, and I feel the cold mud when I close my eyes. I still feel my body itching from the lice outbreak that never got under control because of our tight quarters and unsanitary conditions. I see men begging to have their feet removed, the flesh on their feet rotting away because of the chronic wet conditions in the trenches.
They lived in the trenches which were often water filled and rat infested. The smell of corpses and death was all around. Many of the doughboys were infested with lice or “cooties”, which was probably gotten from the rats. The sound of exploding artillery was heard and those who went “over the top” were often gunned down by German machine guns (The Western Front, 2010). For months these men lived in these trenches without baths, little food and knowing that death or mustard gas awaited them.
Sadly, all the unicorns and pixies always felt perilously around the gnomes. The reason I suppose nobody wanted to give them a chance was because of the lifestyle the gnomes chose to live. It is well known throughout the forest that gnomes are very obstreperous and most of them are vagrants. Along with which all gnomes are very exorbitant in tirades that they often have. Gnomes just do not know how to carry on a normal conversation.