So I wonder what it must be like to be a rabbit. My bunny is hopping around curiously, which is a good thing, since she hasn't eaten much and hasn't seemed very happy these last two days. Her big ears flop down next to her head, hearing everything. Is the refrigerator hum deafening? Or just a perpetual background drone, like city noise in New York? Her soft nose twitches, and I wonder what she smells. To me, it smells like our basement, undefinable and thick, tinged now with the acidic smell of rabbit urine. But to her, it must smell like so many different things that I, never having smelled them, couldn't put a name to. And what thoughts does she think? She is sitting in her corner now, curiosity exhausted, and she stares at me, unblinking. Is she wondering if I am a predator? Or is she thinking about ways to escape her cage? What must it be like to live a simple life, uncomplicated by anything other than the drive to survive, to be born, grow, pass on your genes and one day die? A life free of homework and friends and the drive to get somewhere, to be someone. Sometimes I wonder about that. Sometimes, I think it would be nice to live an uncomplicated life. Sometimes, I just think it would be lonely.
I smiled when I read this, since I often think the same thoughts when I watch my insects. I like how you described the simple actions of your rabbit, and then moved on to asking rhetorical questions of her, questions to which you know you'll never know the answers. The sentiment you express at the end, of thinking it would be nice to live an uncomplicated life, is certainly something we can all relate to, and it makes us stop and imagine that life for a moment. The last sentence, where you say you sometimes think it would be a lonely life, seems a little out of place after the rest of the piece, but I see where you're going with it, and I'd love to see that whole idea expanded upon.
I wish for the opportunity to be transported back to a specific moment in my past, the date of which I do not remember. I barely remember the events of the day, only that I was very young, living in Maryland, and on a walk with my parents at a park. The picture in my mind is of a huge oak tree, on which a walkingstick and a leaf insect rested side by side. This single image is the only thing that (no pun intended) sticks in my brain. I was too young to realize the significance of this event, and my parents tell me that I simply observed the insects before leaving them on the tree. Ever since I became more knowledgeable about insects, it has been (no pun intended again) bugging me nonstop. The walkingstick: it clearly was a female northern walkingstick, a common species in the eastern U.S. No problem there. The leaf insect: that’s where the problem begins. You see, the family to which they belong, Phylliidae, occurs only in southeast Asia and Australia. So how could it have ended up in Maryland? Two explanations come to mind. One, there was a large group of Asian tourists in the area. Maybe it came in on their luggage. That doesn’t seem likely. Two, what if it wasn’t a leaf insect at all? The only other large green insect I could have confused it with is a common true katydid; I think I would have recognized that as something different, with its huge hind legs and noisy demeanor. I have not been able to reconcile this, and I only wish that I could jump to that point in time, to see what it truly was, to finally put that memory of mine at peace.
I sat in silence on the crunchy green tarp and watched as the sun slithered over the art building behind me. The leaves smiled as the sun crawled all over them and warmed their cold veins. I wondered if the leaves would release their grips on the trees soon and selfishly leave the tree naked for winter. I wondered what it would be like if humans could digest food through the process of absorption as opposed to ingestion. How weird would it be if I could absorb a hamburger through my arm? Suddenly my mind was yanked back to real life by song. I didn't know the name of the girl singing, or the name of the song. I vaguely recognized the Latin, but I didn't know what it meant so I gave up. As the goosebumps climbed out of my skin, I was completely alert for the first time that whole morning. She hit almost every note flawlessly. I walked away from convocation with the sounds of the gong ringing in my head, and the notes that the mystery girl had hit perfectly bouncing back and forth. As I drove my brother home that afternoon we sang opera to each other and I, like so many other times in my life, wished that I could sing well.
I lay on the dock that aimlessly floats around our pond. My shirt sticks to the splintering wood as I roll onto my stomach. Through the spaces in the wood, with my hands cupped around my face and one eye closed. The dead, earthy smell of pond water surrounds me as I am pulled into a lively world below. The frogs, still with a slowly disappearing tadpole tail, pass beneath me to get to the next lily pad. As one jumps on another jumps off to find a new space all its own. Small fish either avoid crossing paths with the bigger fish or follow close behind, mirroring every movement. A pile of old muddy leaves begin to move and the water becomes too cloudy to see through despite my efforts to search for the creature that had been laying silently, watching and waiting. I wonder if it saw me as I watched and I waited.
I lay in bed last night, thinking, wide awake. My thoughts swirled, rushing from "I'm editor of the Flyer" to "I have great friends." Suddenly, I felt a weight land on my bed, and was momentarily scared before reason kicked in and I realized it was my cat, Asia. She curled into a ball that fit itself to the curve of my body, and I rubbed her without noticing. My thoughts quickly slowed. Asia purred to the rhythm of "I have great friends, I have friends," and suddenly it was the middle of the night. Asia apparently noticed that I had awoken, and moved from the foot of my bed to my neck and purred loudly in my ear. I rolled over and caressed her, my little Asiatic Darling. If I had opened my eyes, I know her blue eyes would have stared back at me in the darkness. And then it was time to get up (I intentionally don't call it morning; morning doesn't start until it's totally light out). My mom was urging me to greet the day, and Asia was meowing loudly in my ear. As I showered, I wondered if Asia had been on my bed all night. I liked the thought of my little furry guardian.
Right now, I wish I was finished with my homework. I wish I had not procrastinated when I came home after my game, almost four hours ago now. Looking back, the time I spent watching tv and mindlessly browsing my phone could have been put to better use. The thoughts "it's fine, I still have time," or, "so I stay up later to finish, it's no big deal," seem astonishingly naive now. I wish to be in my bed, under my warm dark blue comforter, slowly becoming drowsy as an episode of Breaking Bad plays from my computer which is sitting on my lap. This is a petty wish, one that won't matter anymore in a days time. But right now my strained eyelids don't care about pettiness, they care about my bed, and sleeping. Tomorrow, I will do better. I will come home and right away complete my homework. Maybe I will work on my term paper or study for SATs before an early bed time. Of course, this won't actually happen, I am doomed to this cycle of procrastination day after day. But that doesn't stop me from hoping for better from myself every night.
Something digs into my skin gently, and I am startled awake. My eyes open, not to morning, and not to night but, something in between. I am too tired to check what time it is, though, and my hand reaches sleepily behind my back and pulls away a pair of earphones. I had forgotten that I had fallen asleep to music, and for the first time ever too. The experience was surprisingly calm and serene. Leaving the real world in a swirl of notes and rhythms was such a good way to go. I was sure I would do it again every night from then on. But, I did not think these thoughts in this moment, my brain moved too slow then. Although, I do remember feeling a bit of surprise and triumph after pulling the earphones out and throwing them to the side. They had done their job. Now, all I had to do was go back to sleep. But, just as I was putting my head down, a bright glare made my shut my eyes. I opened them back up slowly, wondering where the light had come from and there, in the left corner of my windowpane, above the dark swaying trees, was a full moon. It had a bright, white, intensity that I have never seen before. With it craters in full view, the dark splotches seemed to smile at me. I stared at it as long as I could before sleep began whispering at the back of my head and I succumbed, turning over so the white light splayed on my back and fell asleep to the quiet sound of wind drifting in through my window. The next day began with the worst of starts, an argument with my brother. But, before I got in the car, I waited outside my house in the cold chill, dreading the next twenty minute car ride that was sure to be filled with more angry air. I was bored and tired, so my gaze casually slid upwards and--- landed on my white, sparkling moon. It floated in the sky, big and full. A smile spreads across my face as I think, It followed me. And, that is how I spend the rest of my day. Smiling. As a result of my white, bright, constant companion.
I really enjoyed reading this! Your description of the moon was wonderful, and I especially liked the part about the craters smiling at you. The repetition of “white” and “bright” worked really well in this piece, as well as the transition from seeing the beauty of the moon at night to the connection to “your moon” in the morning. I liked the part about falling asleep listening to music but it doesn’t really seem to fit here. This caused the beginning to be a little jumpy, and I was unsure of where you were going with it. I think a connection to the peacefulness of listening to music and the moon at night would make the events and description of the night flow well. Also, you begin the night in the present tense and end with the next day in both the past and present tense. Other than that, it was great!
“ I want to go, finnabedown?” “Finna.” We turned our heads and nodded. Quietly we packed up our bags and moved out. The bitter night air moving through the trees and it stung our already rosy cheeks. We left our bags at the top of the massive stairs that looked like they were made for giants not humans. We jumped the four massive steps and walked down the creaky ramp to the dock. We all laid down on the ice cold metal and moved closer to each other to try and keep warm. Even though the many layers of jackets and sweaters the heat of the person next to you was necessary. The quiet of the night and the glory of the inky star layden sky drew over us for 15 minutes until someone looked at their watch. “We have to go.” “I’m finnabedown to do this tomorrow.” “Me too.” I wish the silly little things like the finnabedown all mattered to me as much as that did.
So I wonder what it must be like to be a rabbit. My bunny is hopping around curiously, which is a good thing, since she hasn't eaten much and hasn't seemed very happy these last two days. Her big ears flop down next to her head, hearing everything. Is the refrigerator hum deafening? Or just a perpetual background drone, like city noise in New York? Her soft nose twitches, and I wonder what she smells. To me, it smells like our basement, undefinable and thick, tinged now with the acidic smell of rabbit urine. But to her, it must smell like so many different things that I, never having smelled them, couldn't put a name to. And what thoughts does she think? She is sitting in her corner now, curiosity exhausted, and she stares at me, unblinking. Is she wondering if I am a predator? Or is she thinking about ways to escape her cage? What must it be like to live a simple life, uncomplicated by anything other than the drive to survive, to be born, grow, pass on your genes and one day die? A life free of homework and friends and the drive to get somewhere, to be someone. Sometimes I wonder about that. Sometimes, I think it would be nice to live an uncomplicated life. Sometimes, I just think it would be lonely.
ReplyDeleteI smiled when I read this, since I often think the same thoughts when I watch my insects. I like how you described the simple actions of your rabbit, and then moved on to asking rhetorical questions of her, questions to which you know you'll never know the answers. The sentiment you express at the end, of thinking it would be nice to live an uncomplicated life, is certainly something we can all relate to, and it makes us stop and imagine that life for a moment. The last sentence, where you say you sometimes think it would be a lonely life, seems a little out of place after the rest of the piece, but I see where you're going with it, and I'd love to see that whole idea expanded upon.
DeleteI wish for the opportunity to be transported back to a specific moment in my past, the date of which I do not remember. I barely remember the events of the day, only that I was very young, living in Maryland, and on a walk with my parents at a park. The picture in my mind is of a huge oak tree, on which a walkingstick and a leaf insect rested side by side. This single image is the only thing that (no pun intended) sticks in my brain. I was too young to realize the significance of this event, and my parents tell me that I simply observed the insects before leaving them on the tree. Ever since I became more knowledgeable about insects, it has been (no pun intended again) bugging me nonstop. The walkingstick: it clearly was a female northern walkingstick, a common species in the eastern U.S. No problem there. The leaf insect: that’s where the problem begins. You see, the family to which they belong, Phylliidae, occurs only in southeast Asia and Australia. So how could it have ended up in Maryland? Two explanations come to mind. One, there was a large group of Asian tourists in the area. Maybe it came in on their luggage. That doesn’t seem likely. Two, what if it wasn’t a leaf insect at all? The only other large green insect I could have confused it with is a common true katydid; I think I would have recognized that as something different, with its huge hind legs and noisy demeanor. I have not been able to reconcile this, and I only wish that I could jump to that point in time, to see what it truly was, to finally put that memory of mine at peace.
ReplyDeleteI sat in silence on the crunchy green tarp and watched as the sun slithered over the art building behind me. The leaves smiled as the sun crawled all over them and warmed their cold veins. I wondered if the leaves would release their grips on the trees soon and selfishly leave the tree naked for winter. I wondered what it would be like if humans could digest food through the process of absorption as opposed to ingestion. How weird would it be if I could absorb a hamburger through my arm? Suddenly my mind was yanked back to real life by song. I didn't know the name of the girl singing, or the name of the song. I vaguely recognized the Latin, but I didn't know what it meant so I gave up. As the goosebumps climbed out of my skin, I was completely alert for the first time that whole morning. She hit almost every note flawlessly. I walked away from convocation with the sounds of the gong ringing in my head, and the notes that the mystery girl had hit perfectly bouncing back and forth. As I drove my brother home that afternoon we sang opera to each other and I, like so many other times in my life, wished that I could sing well.
ReplyDeleteI lay on the dock that aimlessly floats around our pond. My shirt sticks to the splintering wood as I roll onto my stomach. Through the spaces in the wood, with my hands cupped around my face and one eye closed. The dead, earthy smell of pond water surrounds me as I am pulled into a lively world below. The frogs, still with a slowly disappearing tadpole tail, pass beneath me to get to the next lily pad. As one jumps on another jumps off to find a new space all its own. Small fish either avoid crossing paths with the bigger fish or follow close behind, mirroring every movement. A pile of old muddy leaves begin to move and the water becomes too cloudy to see through despite my efforts to search for the creature that had been laying silently, watching and waiting. I wonder if it saw me as I watched and I waited.
ReplyDeleteI lay in bed last night, thinking, wide awake. My thoughts swirled, rushing from "I'm editor of the Flyer" to "I have great friends." Suddenly, I felt a weight land on my bed, and was momentarily scared before reason kicked in and I realized it was my cat, Asia. She curled into a ball that fit itself to the curve of my body, and I rubbed her without noticing. My thoughts quickly slowed. Asia purred to the rhythm of "I have great friends, I have friends," and suddenly it was the middle of the night. Asia apparently noticed that I had awoken, and moved from the foot of my bed to my neck and purred loudly in my ear. I rolled over and caressed her, my little Asiatic Darling. If I had opened my eyes, I know her blue eyes would have stared back at me in the darkness. And then it was time to get up (I intentionally don't call it morning; morning doesn't start until it's totally light out). My mom was urging me to greet the day, and Asia was meowing loudly in my ear. As I showered, I wondered if Asia had been on my bed all night. I liked the thought of my little furry guardian.
ReplyDeleteRight now, I wish I was finished with my homework. I wish I had not procrastinated when I came home after my game, almost four hours ago now. Looking back, the time I spent watching tv and mindlessly browsing my phone could have been put to better use. The thoughts "it's fine, I still have time," or, "so I stay up later to finish, it's no big deal," seem astonishingly naive now. I wish to be in my bed, under my warm dark blue comforter, slowly becoming drowsy as an episode of Breaking Bad plays from my computer which is sitting on my lap. This is a petty wish, one that won't matter anymore in a days time. But right now my strained eyelids don't care about pettiness, they care about my bed, and sleeping. Tomorrow, I will do better. I will come home and right away complete my homework. Maybe I will work on my term paper or study for SATs before an early bed time. Of course, this won't actually happen, I am doomed to this cycle of procrastination day after day. But that doesn't stop me from hoping for better from myself every night.
ReplyDeleteSomething digs into my skin gently, and I am startled awake. My eyes open, not to morning, and not to night but, something in between. I am too tired to check what time it is, though, and my hand reaches sleepily behind my back and pulls away a pair of earphones. I had forgotten that I had fallen asleep to music, and for the first time ever too. The experience was surprisingly calm and serene. Leaving the real world in a swirl of notes and rhythms was such a good way to go. I was sure I would do it again every night from then on. But, I did not think these thoughts in this moment, my brain moved too slow then. Although, I do remember feeling a bit of surprise and triumph after pulling the earphones out and throwing them to the side. They had done their job. Now, all I had to do was go back to sleep. But, just as I was putting my head down, a bright glare made my shut my eyes. I opened them back up slowly, wondering where the light had come from and there, in the left corner of my windowpane, above the dark swaying trees, was a full moon. It had a bright, white, intensity that I have never seen before. With it craters in full view, the dark splotches seemed to smile at me. I stared at it as long as I could before sleep began whispering at the back of my head and I succumbed, turning over so the white light splayed on my back and fell asleep to the quiet sound of wind drifting in through my window. The next day began with the worst of starts, an argument with my brother. But, before I got in the car, I waited outside my house in the cold chill, dreading the next twenty minute car ride that was sure to be filled with more angry air. I was bored and tired, so my gaze casually slid upwards and--- landed on my white, sparkling moon. It floated in the sky, big and full. A smile spreads across my face as I think, It followed me. And, that is how I spend the rest of my day. Smiling. As a result of my white, bright, constant companion.
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed reading this! Your description of the moon was wonderful, and I especially liked the part about the craters smiling at you. The repetition of “white” and “bright” worked really well in this piece, as well as the transition from seeing the beauty of the moon at night to the connection to “your moon” in the morning. I liked the part about falling asleep listening to music but it doesn’t really seem to fit here. This caused the beginning to be a little jumpy, and I was unsure of where you were going with it. I think a connection to the peacefulness of listening to music and the moon at night would make the events and description of the night flow well. Also, you begin the night in the present tense and end with the next day in both the past and present tense. Other than that, it was great!
Delete“ I want to go, finnabedown?”
ReplyDelete“Finna.”
We turned our heads and nodded. Quietly we packed up our bags and moved out. The bitter night air moving through the trees and it stung our already rosy cheeks. We left our bags at the top of the massive stairs that looked like they were made for giants not humans. We jumped the four massive steps and walked down the creaky ramp to the dock. We all laid down on the ice cold metal and moved closer to each other to try and keep warm. Even though the many layers of jackets and sweaters the heat of the person next to you was necessary. The quiet of the night and the glory of the inky star layden sky drew over us for 15 minutes until someone looked at their watch.
“We have to go.”
“I’m finnabedown to do this tomorrow.”
“Me too.”
I wish the silly little things like the finnabedown all mattered to me as much as that did.
.