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Reflective Writing
Skill reflective writing eassay
Reflective Writing
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There can be a lot of problems that may happen in the Conodoguinet Creek. One problem is that there might be an excess amount of algae hogging up all the space in the water. This can be caused by fertilizer washing into the creek. It can even come from someone fertilizing their front yard. Also, there can be a high acidity level in the water, which can be unhealthy and hazardous to the fish.
“I’ll get the paddleboard on the rocks,” I called up to Mason. He was already halfway up the stone stairs that led up the hill. I leaped up onto the first stair, and bounded up the hill, jumping two stairs with every stride. I was overjoyed to be in Northern Michigan on Long Lake, the largest of the twenty inland lakes in Long Lake Township. My hockey teammate, Mason, had invited me up to his amazing lake house.
The fog over the lake was enough to make any skilled sailor turn around, but Heather and Jane moved further away from the marina with every stroke of the oar. There was a slight breeze in the early morning air. "It sure is a nice day for relaxation," Jane chirped. Heather 's head nodded I agreement. They were several hundred yards away from shore, out in the calm water.
For Kaela: I love the opening anecdote, it starts the essay with a bang and compacts so much information in so little space. The segues used between paragraphs and ideas are seamless. The choice of words used when you talk about not being at a pizza place or a bread isle, or when you describe your “celiac safety system” your words evoke a lot of pictures and makes the essay more dynamic. One quote that really stuck with me is “perfection demands more than I can achieve”. Perfection does demand a lot and humans are not perfect.
I will never forget that encounter the intense sun, the endless horizon, the infinite shades of blue that dissolved any boundary between sky and trees. The views were like swimming into a kaleidoscope, deceptively plain "Lake Winaukee" sign on the outside, but a show of colors on the inside, waiting to shock and, mesmerize me. Those colors! Sails on the horizon covered the lake; streaks of sunlight illuminated them, the swaying wildlife creating a dance of rhythm. Beautiful, preserved life synchronizing every movement with the camp sight creating one living entity.
“Big Lakes, get over here!’’ Locks exclaimed. “I’m coming, I just have to grab some logs for the fire.” Big Lakes said, while kneeling down next to the woven oval houses. “Okay, just hurry up.
The problem with Lake Erie is that it is infested with this toxic algae making it hard for the people of Toledo to drink it. The causes of the bacteria didn’t start in Toledo. It stated hundreds of miles from Toledo. The algae are fed by natural and commercial fertilizers from the watersheds, farms, livestocks, and city sewers. All of the waste from those sources form in the shallowest part of Lake Erie, and when the water warms the bacteria spreads.
2) Although, the essay “The Swimmer” is not one of the best essays I have ever read, it still a good essay overall. I like the storyline because it’s really realistic, and easy to read. This essay resemble a lot
Sherwood Anderson is an essayist whose notoriety is constructing fundamentally with respect to a solitary book, Winesburg, Ohio. However whether that book is a novel or a progression of short stories, regardless of whether it is a confession of a residential community's ethical rot or a nostalgic amusement of the residential area before it was destroyed by industrialization, whether it is sex-fixated or exceptionally moral — these inquiries have been discussed for the 50 years since Winesburg was distributed in 1919. One thing is sure: Anderson exhibits in his book a gathering of characters that are baffled and desolate, characters who are repressed by tradition and turned by realism, and characters aching for adoration and flexibility however
The drive was almost unbearable, but the thought of spending the week in the snow with family kept me going. It was only a four hour drive, but at 9 years old, it felt like an eternity. The scenery slowly changed from flat land, to rolling hills. The hills were covered in yellow dying grass, but they were still beautiful. Then we started to make the climb.
Why the Drinking Age should Not be Lowered Imagine seeing a loved one being in a drunk driving accident, now imagine them being the drunk driver. All of this could have been avoided if the drinking age was not lowered, but some may disagree. Many people believe that if the drinking age were lowered, these problems would no longer be an issue. But many also believe that the problem would just become worse and maybe even cause greater issues.
In a southern Wisconsin state park, a small lake is surrounded by three towering bluffs coated in trees and fallen rocks. The water, cool and greenish-blue, wraps around the more heavily travelled East bluff in the shape of an elderly man’s ear. Watercraft, swimmers, fisherman and children in floaties are seen in and about the lake. Picnic areas along with sand volleyball courts and scattered trees lie between the parking lot and lakeshore. A charming shop for renting watercraft, equipment and toys rests just a few strides from the water.
The fresh air smells like a mix of mucky water, and of hamburgers and hot dogs cooking on a grill outside. A calm breeze sweeps across the lake as soon as I step onto the dock. The view of Platte Lake is all around me when I jump on the rusty, old dock. Off to the side of the dock next to a tree sits an antique paddle boat. Old stickers cover the boat, but most have peeled off like paint chips off of an old fence.
My expectations coming into the course were high and remained high throughout the duration of the course. The essays I wrote in the class really challenged me to progress in my writing skills. The illustration essay really served as an example of what not to do when writing at a college level. My approach of the essay was really misunderstood and grammatically incorrect.
Smooth, oval rocks lined the bank of the secretive lake. Discarded and neglected; overlaid with spongy moss and choked by fallen, decaying leaves from the unclothed and withering trees above. As the lake swelled around the ashen boulders, icy, black water lifelessly lapped against the long, thin beams of wood holding up a rickety pier. The structure was covered in splinters and ragged, iron nails, and as it reached out into the centre of the sombre lake, it became more and more distant. Half-cut beams lined the sides of the pier, as nettle patches hissed from the shore when the water drew too near.