Everything that passes by tickles the sinuses. The smell of lilies, daisy, trees, and fields of grass are euphoric. While riding on a motorcycle, there are no windows to hide behind to retreat from the smell of a smelly cattle lot, an angry skunk or the odor of fresh road kill. Perhaps the only downfall to enjoying these smells is not being able to block out the gross odors that aggravate the otherwise harmonious experience. The only option is to drive as fast as possible to escape to fresh air again.
Looking to my right I can see and hear cars as they pass by; car doors opening and closing also can hear the loud music from a CCBC student’s stereo system on the lower parking lot. Noticing the shortcuts which students made paths through the snow, I think to myself why would you want to go in the cold, wet, deep snow when you have sidewalks for? The longer I sit out here the more I’m anxious to go inside! It is the little things in our days that slowly go unnoticed and unlooked. When I take a second to stop and notice all those small things they overwhelm me like a wave crashing down upon a beach.
At night, while the lights are left on I enter the track, plug in my iPod and start to run. I feel relaxed as I clear my mind and concentrate on the steam rising off the surface of the black track beneath me. Soft and warm, I glide over the surface. I pass children jogging with their parents, an older woman walking along the outer edges and then there is me. My Asics hit the ground with a soft tap, almost unnoticeable to those around me.
I decided it is not a very good day to spend the time at the beach. I read the wood sign and keep to the right. I drive up a couple of seconds and the first thing I would see is a beautiful big house. It would be a simple black and white house with a red door in the middle that stands out from the rest. All the windows opened up wide letting the fresh air in making the house smell nothing but fresh flowers from the garden.
My most significant place Thinking of my most significant place halts all noise in my conscious. A swirling down play of Traffic noise, screeching tires, bogging hum of city busses carting through town. On the air, a buzzing energy from towers, electricity, and the whooshing winds off building’s carrying noise pollution through out my surroundings stops. Feelings of anxiety and strain peel away as if to remind me the chaotic world filled with rush and obligation I have left. Calm now I hear the distinct sound of healthy black sole giving under my steps.
It's been diabolically cold, as well, which means that, when the snow came, it stayed. It clogged roads, and closed schools, and turned daily life into one long, obnoxious slog, an endless ordeal of bursting water pipes and dangling power lines. But winter brings something else, too, along with copious snow and stuck cars and frozen fingers: silence. This occurred to me as I drove across the snow-coated miles of northern Ohio and Indiana. As I rolled past those wide-open farm fields, the ones tucked under their simple quilts of snow, I realized how quiet the world is when it is encased that way, how graceful.
Ignoring him I walk out into the chilly air. I have to walk to the far end of the parking lot which gives me a bad feeling but my worries cease to exist when I remember where I am. ‘ I am at schools or nothing bad can happen, right?’ I think to myself. Finally, after what seems like forever, I reach my cute yellow Volkswagen bug but before I can unlock the door arms wrap around my torso picking me up violently. I begin screaming for help, “HELP!
Everyone was silent and emotionless as we rode through the grey, bitter cold to the hospital to see my grandpa, Joe. The rain droplets streamed down my window as I peered out into the dismal city. I thought that the unpleasant mood would lift once we arrived, and everyone had a chance to stretch his or her legs; however, I was completely wrong. The red, green, and clear Christmas lights that adorned the various trees illuminated the now dark skies, and only seemed to mock the sadness my family was feeling. As I stepped out into the chill of the night, the wind piercing my flesh like sharp knives, I saw a mother, a father, two children, and an older woman crying and clutching each other.
It was such a wonderful day too…blue skies, nice breeze; warm, for January. My friends seemed to think that celebrating for no reason at all was the right thing to do on that nice day. I was stupid enough to agree. Michael and I drove to the outskirts of our little town, looking for the old, creaky cabin our friends spoke of. As we pulled into the dusty driveway, I noticed that not so far away lay the calm and eerily quiet forest.