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Draft:
Most of my life was spent in steamy South Florida. Its
known as the Sunshine State, but if you lived in Florida, you
know it is also the number one state for electrical weather.
With the liquid sunshine comes the powerful, deadly, yet
awesomely beautiful lightning strikes followed by the
rumbling, yet soothing, bass sound of the thunder. Florida
receives about 1.5 millions strikes per year.
We grew up with the storms as an almost daily
happening. They were a part of our life and only found them
exasperating when they interrupted our all-day, every-day
swims. Inevitably they would come in the middle of a game of
Marco-Polo or Sharks and Minnows. We knew that when it
began raining, if you waited long enough, it would stop. During
the day, as a youth, that was very difficult to do. My parents
told us, When you see the lightning, start counting 1-1000,
2-1000, and whatever number you end at when you hear the
thunder, thats how many miles away the storm is. We
counted a lot! In Florida these storms happened day and night,
but the nighttime storms were the best.
I remember laying in bed and seeing the brilliantly
shocking luminous streaks of white cascading down from the
graphite sky outside my darkened, protective bedroom
window. Id watch the forking tendons of the lightning bolt
reach for the unsuspecting ground and count, 1-1000, 2-1000,
3-1000, 4-, and hearing the slow but deep, rumbling boom. Id
think, Its only four miles away. Then counting again,
1-1000, 2-1000, 3-. Now its only three miles away. and
again, 1-1000, Wow! Its moving fast.
Throughout I love listening to the rain. The wondrous,
chaotic drops of liquid falling from the turbulent, inky skies
above. It begins as a melodic sound, a musical symphony as it
sporadically pings, clinks, tinks, and splats on different
surfaces. In between all these resonant notes come the
reverberating rumble of the thunder. As the storm builds
momentum, the rainfall increased its waterfall of musicality
and the resplendent light show all synthesizing into a torrent
ensemble. All the while, I lay cozy and secure in my bed as my
eyelids grow heavy from the days activities and the
mesmerizing performance by Mother Nature transpiring mere
inches from where I lay.
Brianna - Jean, I remember reading something you posted about how you felt that
you were not a strong writer. I think youre an amazing writer! From your piece I
could feel and see the storm. I also enjoy thunderstorms and your message came
across in your writing. For my endings I like to relate back to the beginning .. was it
steamy? Or were you ready for another storm? How it feel?, look?, and sound? After
the storm?
Draft:
Watching her grow
Full of curiosity
Seeing her take chances
Always independent
Traveling abroad
Gone for a year
Missed moments
Wistful for her return
Hey Jean! I can definitely feel the love through your poem
and I commend you for trying a new genre. :) I especially
like how you used line spacing with all the places she
traveled! Im not positive where I read this- maybe my
expert book?- but I remember a suggestion that in poetry
you should try to keep your verbs grounded in the subject
to make it more real. Like instead of starting with
Watching her grow you could say I watch her grow or I
watched her grow. However, I also like the way your
poem is already and I know that I like centering on verbs
in my own writing. I love that Dr. Harrington has taught us
to offer feedback but that the writer gets to make the final
decision- I want to remember that with my students this
year. -Kate
Traveling abroad
Gone for a year
Missed moments
Wistful for her return
Final Publication:
Evening Thunderstorms
Most of my life was spent in steamy South Florida. Its known
as the Sunshine State, but if you lived in Florida, you know it is
also the number one state for electrical weather. With the
liquid sunshine comes the powerful, deadly, yet awesomely
beautiful lightning strikes followed by the rumbling, yet
soothing, bass sound of the thunder. Florida receives about 1.5
millions strikes per year.
We grew up with the storms as an almost daily
occurrence. They were a part of our life and we only found
them exasperating when they interrupted our all-day,
every-day swims. Inevitably they would come in the middle of
a game of Marco-Polo or Sharks and Minnows. We knew that
when it began raining, if you waited long enough, it would stop.
During the day, as a youth, that was very difficult to do. My
parents told us, When you see the lightning, start counting
1-1000, 2-1000, and whatever number you end at when you
hear the thunder, thats how many miles away the storm is.
We counted a lot! In Florida these storms happened day and
night, but the nighttime storms were the best.
I remember laying in bed and seeing the brilliantly
shocking luminous streaks of white cascading down from the
graphite sky outside my darkened, protective bedroom
window. Id watch the forking tendons of the lightning bolt
reach for the unsuspecting ground and count, 1-1000, 2-1000,
3-1000, 4-, and hearing the slow but deep, rumbling boom. Id
think, Its only four miles away. Then counting again,
1-1000, 2-1000, 3-. Now its only three miles away. and
again, 1-1000, Wow! Its moving fast.
Throughout the storm I loved listening to the rain. The
wondrous, chaotic drops of liquid falling from the turbulent,
inky skies above. It began as a melodic sound, a musical
symphony as it sporadically pings, clinks, tinks, and splats on
different surfaces. In between all these resonant notes came
the reverberating rumble of the thunder. As the storm built
momentum, the rainfall increased its waterfall of musicality
and the resplendent light show all synthesizing into a torrent
ensemble. The fitful gusts of wind blew the tattered palm
fronds in a helter-skelter wave on the treetops while the
cascading sheets of rain drove into the saturated earth. All the
while in my tranquil room, I laid cozy and secure in my soft bed
as my eyelids grow heavy from the days activities and the
mesmerizing performance by Mother Nature transpiring mere
inches from where I lay.
I loved this story! I actually loved all your stories and I think that you are an
amazing writer. I would think about you when I was writing my pieces and
ask how would Jean phrase this? You use such great vocabulary words to
really get your point across. Awesome job! Thanks so much for helping me
this semester. Cant wait to see you soon in our new class! --Lisa