Martha's Vineyard

Ben’jamin
Mr. H Salsich
English 9
10/09/10

The long but short bus ride to Martha’s Vineyard was not an eventful one. The activities during and after the trip was a lot more eventful than the trip itself. During the trips on the ferry, the card games and sea breeze was a much welcomed brake to the cramped and crowded bus. After a long but short trip ended, another trip began, but this was a trip through a much shorter distance. The aquarium was very eventful. You walked along a hall being watched by lots of little fishy eyes. The small shark eyes of the dogfish staring loathingly at passerbies. The snowy grouper frowning. Its yeses glare at every person. Its body perfectly still, and its tail not even fluttering in the slightest breeze. But still we move on to the coldest and wettest place our expedition saw throughout our whole escapade. The trails were muddy the heavens pouring, the trees sagging, the feet dragging, and no bugs to be had. The map faded and tore and spirits did not soar. In fact, the spirits died, as well as moral. But the three trudged on. The end of the sassafras trail finally came into sight through the branches and leaves of the forest, The longer walk across the small lakes of collected rain make my shoes flood with water, However we do make it back where we draw live and dead animals,. The hawk looms over all, but I am the only one brace enough to attempt to capture the terrible, gentle feathers. So we moved on, devouring an entire coop full of chickens. The dark sauce glistened on the grill chicken as my knifed tore through the meat. So far, I had had tons of fun at Martha’s Vineyard.

The shadow is cast toward me, the sun in front of me. I can not see the sun, even though the light grows dim as it slips into the waves. J The rock is perched on the edge of the cliff right above the crashing and rolling waves. The white foam rides up the waves, as if it were snow on a winter’s day. The wind howls over the sand and up and over the red cliffs. The wisps of clouds sluggishly crawls across the sky wish has at last turned from grey to bight blue with a spot of crimson and gold by the endless blue of the sea. The one rock stands alone, yes there are other rocks that tower over the duns, other rocks balancing on a cliff, other rocks that tower over the sand, it is not the biggest or the most difficultly balanced but it is the proudest of all that stand above the mess of other rocks. This rock stands in the waves that crash all about it; this rock was the quickest to stand on its own this rock is not the most pretty but it is the most beautiful. This one solitary rock was the one picked to be silhouetted the one the sun picked to frame in the fires on red and yellow. This one rock, the perfect rock.