(Mildly influenced by our studies on transcendentalism this week. Also, this sentence does not count for the no e's. If you couldn't tell...)
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I always visit my woods following a storm. Familiar sounds go away as I walk through twigs and trunks, occasional drops tumbling from a gray and murky sky. Animals vanish from sight as I pass by. Trunks sway back and forth, giants rising upwards into wind, and my lungs work hard, a small cloud drifting from my mouth.
I finally stop at my spot. It is now soggy, but I still walk through twigs and junk, trying not to trip on anything. I sigh loudly, glancing down at trash that I will soon pick up. A aluminum can. A sad flap of plastic. A styrofoam cup. I slowly walk around, stopping occasionally to pick up trash. As I work, crisp autumn air cools down my skin, which is slowly starting to transform into a human bright human stop sign. Half an hour later, I stop, finally happy with my work.
And out of black dirt, a tiny plant springs.
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I always visit my woods following a storm. Familiar sounds go away as I walk through twigs and trunks, occasional drops tumbling from a gray and murky sky. Animals vanish from sight as I pass by. Trunks sway back and forth, giants rising upwards into wind, and my lungs work hard, a small cloud drifting from my mouth.
I finally stop at my spot. It is now soggy, but I still walk through twigs and junk, trying not to trip on anything. I sigh loudly, glancing down at trash that I will soon pick up. A aluminum can. A sad flap of plastic. A styrofoam cup. I slowly walk around, stopping occasionally to pick up trash. As I work, crisp autumn air cools down my skin, which is slowly starting to transform into a human bright human stop sign. Half an hour later, I stop, finally happy with my work.
And out of black dirt, a tiny plant springs.