Autumn Leaves

 

            Hearing the newly fallen leaves crunch beneath my feet as I run to try and find the perfect spot for my first deer stand. My 6-year-old eyes glance over the vast area as I focus in on one spot.

            “There!” I yell, flinging my arm in the direction I’m looking. “That’s where I want my stand!” Drifting over a small hill, my feet seem to float off the ground. Feeling the crisp air twirl my hair around. I see my dad venture to the spot I had selected, and he marked the tree with bright green tape.

            Driving down the old familiar highway, I notice that nothing had changed except the leaves were still on the trees. The summer sun was blazing down on my windshield. A metal stand followed my truck as I swerve around the sharp curves.

            “Hold this wall for me, Cassie. I need to nail it to these to pieces together.” My dad tells me as I walk up to him.

            “Okay but please hurry!” I say, straining to hold the heavy wall up, so it doesn’t fall and crash on top of me.

            “Okay mom! Don’t get your panties in a wad!” he replies in a sarcastic voice, trying to hold in a smile.

As I hear my tires crunch the gravel on the road, a heartwarming smile stretches across my face. 

            “Don’t trip again!” My boyfriend yelled at me.

            “No promises!” I reply back, laughing at the thought of me tripping again.

Strolling through the trees, listening to the rain start to slowly come down from the tree tops. As we travel further into the trees, they get denser, making me closer to my boyfriend. He reaches for my hand, my eyes happen to spot something off in the distance and that’s shiny.  Quickly, due to my short attention span, our romantic walk through the woods turned into my newest adventure.  

            “Here we go again.” He says, sighing as he starts to follow me. I hear him say it, not knowing his mood or how he is feeling. I turn and grab his hand, dragging him down a small hill with the rain steadily coming down. Finally reaching the mystery object, I realize what it is.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, with a concerned look on his face. “Are you okay?”

With the rain heavenly flowing down, I look at my boyfriend in a daze.

            “That’s my first stand.” I say, gazing at the rusted metal.

            “Where’s the drill, daddy?” I scream in frustration.

            “Look behind you, Cassie. You act like such a blonde sometimes, I really worry about you!’ my dad says, shaking his head laughing.

            I start laughing at the memory of me acting crazy. Getting this really strange look from my boyfriend, I can’t help but laugh now. I pull the two of us over the small hill listening to the newly fallen leaves crunch beneath out feet.

 

 

Reading Memories

Growing up I never thought that I was much of a reader. I did not care for sitting in one spot and looking at a book, I might have said something along the lines of "Who reads? I don't!" or "Reading is for babies" There were more important things, I thought, than reading. Things that included; being outside, running wild in the tall grass, getting muddy and spending time with my dad. Unfortunately I was informed that I was wrong.

In my early childhood, from what I was told, I was a little bit of a book worm. Little being an understatement. I loved to read supposedly. I was always with my grandmother because my dad worked a lot when I was younger. I would spend most afternoons after school at her house. I had a small library with all of the children's book i owned. I guess you could say I had a obsession.

While spending time after school with my grandmother, I had a keen sense of curiosity, as most young children do. I grab the book with the prettiest pictures and look at them. That's what I thought reading was back in the day.

Finally my grandmother, Debra, sat down with me and tyred to get me to read. I will tell you one thing, I've never been fought in a war before. Nor have I been in a battle or any type of brutal fighting but that day,in that house of my grandparents was World War 3. I remember I threw applesauce all over the living room with the book still in my hand. Needless to say we didn't try to get me to read for the rest of the day.

I can not recall the date or when  I finally got to reading, but it wasn't an easy task. My dad, mom and grandparents all took turns in trying to get me to read. I was indeed a stubborn child. 

That day I do remember we were at my grandparents house in Wynne, sitting on the fireplace with the fire crackling with embers. Opening the cover, I was asked to pronounce the first word. After that it was a slow process but its was process. Taking time, of course, I started reading more difficult books.

In my early stages of school, I was introduced to AR. This was a type of reading program that helped kids learn to read and comprehend books better. I was always trying to beat everyone at getting the most points and having the highest average. You could say I was a true nerd!

After that day reading has come fairly easy to me, but I don't enjoy it as much as I used to. Even though I'm nerdy ginger, I don't read as much as I used to when I was younger, books I mean. I read all the time, everyday. Texting and watching TV, I read and comprehend understandings of many new complex vocabulary terms. This is very useful in the real world.

I Am...

I am special and different
I wonder why Allyson hates my accent
I hear leprechauns under my bed
I see unicorns sliding down rainbows
I want to succeed in life
I am special and different

I pretend I am in my deer stand
I feel squishy sand beneath my feet
I touch the crisp air flow by
I worry about my future
I cry when I leave home
I am special and different

I understand the world isn't perfect
I say anything is possible
I dream about things I want to achieve
I always try to do my best
I hope I am always myself
I am special and different

Why!? Why do these things happen!?

  Everything happens for a reason or so I belive. Things happen for all kinds of reasons, some we can explain then some we can not explain. Its all part of a learning process. Other people might say its magic or destiney, some might know what to think about these type of situations.I honestly dont know how to put it into a summed up into a sentence.

 Events in stories are like movies. One simple thing leads to another, we get to the climax, then it leads off to the falling action then its the dramatic ending. The short story, The Tale of a Very Old Man with Enormous Wings is very much like a movie.

  This short story is a simple peice of work with extrodanary detail and gradually pulls you in with suspence. Thus, when a man with just an ordanary family and a very sick child, stumbles across a very old man that has emormous wings of crow feather in a patch of mud you wonder why it is happening.

  It fact, it was no accident that the man stumbled across the angle. It was no accident that the author intended to write this. The author wanted our minds to try and picture and think of the reason he did this. This is not for basic entertainment, its was to thinking challange for our minds. It ment something in some way to the author. My point exactly in which everything happens for a reason.