please tell me what u think of my short story/essay?

THOUGHTS IN SPRING
It is a normal spring day and I decide to have my lunch break in the local park. I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree with the wind blowing through the leaves, causing shadows to dance on the manicured lawn.The weather is good; warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about.

The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and pass times. A man not much younger than I am, walks past me in his well pressed business suit, talking on his mobile phone a little too loudly trying to sound important to those in earshot, or trying to sound important to himself.

An elderly couple are sitting on a picnic blanket on the lawn, their silver hair shining in the afternoon Sun. Homemade sandwiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content but their eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship; should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.

A young female runner jogs past them, her toned body a billboard for her generation. Her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the Sun. Tight fitting running clothes to enhance her performance and to leave those who look at her, envious, an object of their sexual desire. She runs past a group of teenage school kids and as she passes the boys mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls, who roll their eyes.

A young couple with smiles on their faces, walk past hand in hand. They watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosy cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face but for now, he is content with sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T.V.

A small bird grabs my attention, a sparrow I think. He is doing a little hop type of dance in front of a clump of bushes; he darts into them, coming out with a small bug in his beak and flies up into a tree. He returns moments later to do the same thing again. The more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him. I wonder if he is feeding his young and is it just instinct that drives him to do this, or is it parental love. Will he get frustrated if he cannot get enough food? Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? Will it break if one day she does not return? Does he know of fear? Will he cower in the treetops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkindly because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? Will he sing that little bit louder when the Sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and creation? Is he aware of me, as I am of him and does he know of man, or war and death? If he is aware of all of these then I feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the folly of man and yet, if he is not aware, I am equally sorry for him; for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all.

Can I please have your opinion on this short story/poem I wrote?

THOUGHTS IN SPRING

It is a normal spring day and I decide to have my lunch break in the local park. I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree with the wind blowing through the leaves, causing shadows to dance on the manicured lawn.The weather is good; warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about. Flower beds adorn the park, hibiscus, chrysanthemum, azaleas and more, a patchwork quilt of flora.

The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and pass times. A man not much younger than I am, walks past me in his well pressed business suit, talking on his mobile phone a little too loudly trying to sound important to those in earshot, or trying to sound important to himself.

An elderly couple are sitting on a picnic blanket on the lawn, their silver hair shining in the afternoon Sun. Homemade sandwiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content but their eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship; should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.

A young female runner jogs past them, her toned body a billboard for her generation. Her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the Sun. Tight fitting running clothes worn to enhance her performance and to leave those who look at her envious, an object of their sexual desire and manufactured jealousy. She runs past a group of teenage school kids, as she passes the boys mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls, who roll their eyes.

A young couple with smiles on their faces, walk past hand in hand. They watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosy cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face but for now, he is content with sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T. V.
The park, the people the scenarios all of them a postcard, a cliche of modern thought and actions.

A small bird grabs my attention, a sparrow I think. He is doing a little hop type of dance in front of a clump of bushes; he darts into them, coming out with a small bug in his beak and flies up into a tree. He returns moments later to do the same thing again. The more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him. I wonder if he is feeding his young and is it just instinct that drives him to do this, or is it parental love. Will he get frustrated if he cannot get enough food? Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? Will it break if one day she does not return? Does he know of fear? Will he cower in the treetops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkindly because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? Will he sing that little bit louder when the Sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and creation? Is he aware of me, as I am of him and does he know of man, or war and death? If he is aware of all of these then I feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the folly of man and yet, if he is not aware, I am equally sorry for him; for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all.

What do u think of my short story/ essay?

THOUGHTS IN SPRING
It is a normal spring day and I decide to have my lunch break in the local park. I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree with the wind blowing through the leaves, causing shadows to dance on the manicured lawn.The weather is good; warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about.

The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and pass times. A man not much younger than I am, walks past me in his well pressed business suit, talking on his mobile phone a little too loudly trying to sound important to those in earshot, or trying to sound important to himself.

An elderly couple are sitting on a picnic blanket on the lawn, their silver hair shining in the afternoon Sun. Homemade sandwiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content but their eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship; should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.

A young female runner jogs past them, her toned body a billboard for her generation. Her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the Sun. Tight fitting running clothes to enhance her performance and to leave those who look at her, envious, an object of their sexual desire. She runs past a group of teenage school kids and as she passes the boys mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls, who roll their eyes.

A young couple with smiles on their faces, walk past hand in hand. They watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosy cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face but for now, he is content with sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T.V.

A small bird grabs my attention, a sparrow I think. He is doing a little hop type of dance in front of a clump of bushes; he darts into them, coming out with a small bug in his beak and flies up into a tree. He returns moments later to do the same thing again. The more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him. I wonder if he is feeding his young and is it just instinct that drives him to do this, or is it parental love. Will he get frustrated if he cannot get enough food? Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? Will it break if one day she does not return? Does he know of fear? Will he cower in the treetops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkindly because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? Will he sing that little bit louder when the Sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and creation? Is he aware of me, as I am of him and does he know of man, or war and death? If he is aware of all of these then I feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the folly of man and yet, if he is not aware, I am equally sorry for him; for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all.

Please tell me what u thing of my short story/essay i have posted it on here before and made some changes ?

THOUGHTS IN SPRING
It is a normal spring day and I decide to have my lunch break in the local park. I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree with the wind blowing through the leaves, causing shadows to dance on the manicured lawn.The weather is good; warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about.

The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and pass times. A man not much younger than I am, walks past me in his well pressed business suit, talking on his mobile phone a little too loudly trying to sound important to those in earshot, or trying to sound important to himself.

An elderly couple are sitting on a picnic blanket on the lawn, their silver hair shining in the afternoon Sun. Homemade sandwiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content but their eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship; should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.

A young female runner jogs past them, her toned body a billboard for her generation. Her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the Sun. Tight fitting running clothes to enhance her performance and to leave those who look at her, envious, an object of their sexual desire. She runs past a group of teenage school kids and as she passes the boys mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls, who roll their eyes.

A young couple with smiles on their faces, walk past hand in hand. They watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosy cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face but for now, he is content with sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T.V.

A small bird grabs my attention, a sparrow I think. He is doing a little hop type of dance in front of a clump of bushes; he darts into them, coming out with a small bug in his beak and flies up into a tree. He returns moments later to do the same thing again. The more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him. I wonder if he is feeding his young and is it just instinct that drives him to do this, or is it parental love. Will he get frustrated if he cannot get enough food? Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? Will it break if one day she does not return? Does he know of fear? Will he cower in the treetops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkindly because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? Will he sing that little bit louder when the Sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and creation? Is he aware of me, as I am of him and does he know of man, or war and death? If he is aware of all of these then I feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the folly of man and yet, if he is not aware, I am equally sorry for him; for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all.

just a little something a wrote, your thoughts would be appreciated?

THOUGHTS IN SPRING

It is a normal spring day and I decide to have my lunch break in the local park. I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree with the wind blowing through the leaves, causing shadows to dance on the manicured lawn.The weather is good; warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about. Flower beds adorn the park, hibiscus, chrysanthemum, azaleas and more, a patchwork quilt of flora.

The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and pass times. A man not much younger than I am, walks past me in his well pressed business suit, talking on his mobile phone a little too loudly trying to sound important to those in earshot, or trying to sound important to himself.

An elderly couple are sitting on a picnic blanket on the lawn, their silver hair shining in the afternoon Sun. Homemade sandwiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content but their eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship; should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.

A young female runner jogs past them, her toned body a billboard for her generation. Her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the Sun. Tight fitting running clothes worn to enhance her performance and to leave those who look at her envious, an object of their sexual desire and manufactured jealousy. She runs past a group of teenage school kids, as she passes the boys mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls, who roll their eyes.

A young couple with smiles on their faces, walk past hand in hand. They watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosy cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face but for now, he is content with sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T. V.
The park, the people the scenarios all of them a postcard, a cliche of modern thought and actions.

A small bird grabs my attention, a sparrow I think. He is doing a little hop type of dance in front of a clump of bushes; he darts into them, coming out with a small bug in his beak and flies up into a tree. He returns moments later to do the same thing again. The more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him. I wonder if he is feeding his young and is it just instinct that drives him to do this, or is it parental love. Will he get frustrated if he cannot get enough food? Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? Will it break if one day she does not return? Does he know of fear? Will he cower in the treetops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkindly because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? Will he sing that little bit louder when the Sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and creation? Is he aware of me, as I am of him and does he know of man, or war and death? If he is aware of all of these then I feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the folly of man and yet, if he is not aware, I am equally sorry for him; for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all.

My essay, please comment?

THOUGHTS IN SPRING

It is a normal spring day and I decide to have my lunch break in the local park. I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree with the wind blowing through the leaves, causing shadows to dance on the manicured lawn.The weather is good; warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about.

The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and pass times. A man not much younger than I am, walks past me in his well pressed business suit, talking on his mobile phone a little too loudly trying to sound important to those in earshot, or trying to sound important to himself.

An elderly couple are sitting on a picnic blanket on the lawn, their silver hair shining in the afternoon Sun. Homemade sandwiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content but their eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship; should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.

A young female runner jogs past them, her toned body a billboard for her generation. Her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the Sun. Tight fitting running clothes to enhance her performance and to leave those who look at her, envious, an object of their sexual desire. She runs past a group of teenage school kids and as she passes the boys mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls, who roll their eyes.

A young couple with smiles on their faces, walk past hand in hand. They watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosy cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face but for now, he is content with sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T.V.

A small bird grabs my attention, a sparrow I think. He is doing a little hop type of dance in front of a clump of bushes; he darts into them, coming out with a small bug in his beak and flies up into a tree. He returns moments later to do the same thing again. The more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him. I wonder if he is feeding his young and is it just instinct that drives him to do this, or is it parental love. Will he get frustrated if he cannot get enough food? Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? Will it break if one day she does not return? Does he know of fear? Will he cower in the treetops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkindly because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? Will he sing that little bit louder when the Sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and creation? Is he aware of me, as I am of him and does he know of man, or war and death? If he is aware of all of these then I feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the folly of man and yet, if he is not aware, I am equally sorry for him; for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all.

Final post of my essay, please tell me what you think?

THOUGHTS IN SPRING
It is a normal spring day and I decide to have my lunch break in the local park. I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree with the wind blowing through the leaves, causing shadows to dance on the manicured lawn.The weather is good; warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about.

The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and pass times. A man not much younger than I am, walks past me in his well pressed business suit, talking on his mobile phone a little too loudly trying to sound important to those in earshot, or trying to sound important to himself.

An elderly couple are sitting on a picnic blanket on the lawn, their silver hair shining in the afternoon Sun. Homemade sandwiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content but their eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship; should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.

A young female runner jogs past them, her toned body a billboard for her generation. Her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the Sun. Tight fitting running clothes to enhance her performance and to leave those who look at her, envious, an object of their sexual desire. She runs past a group of teenage school kids and as she passes the boys mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls, who roll their eyes.

A young couple with smiles on their faces, walk past hand in hand. They watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosy cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face but for now, he is content with sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T.V.

A small bird grabs my attention, a sparrow I think. He is doing a little hop type of dance in front of a clump of bushes; he darts into them, coming out with a small bug in his beak and flies up into a tree. He returns moments later to do the same thing again. The more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him. I wonder if he is feeding his young and is it just instinct that drives him to do this, or is it parental love. Will he get frustrated if he cannot get enough food? Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? Will it break if one day she does not return? Does he know of fear? Will he cower in the treetops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkindly because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? Will he sing that little bit louder when the Sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and creation? Is he aware of me, as I am of him and does he know of man, or war and death? If he is aware of all of these then I feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the folly of man and yet, if he is not aware, I am equally sorry for him; for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all.

just a little something i wrote, your thoughts would be appreciated?

THOUGHTS IN SPRING

It is a normal spring day and I decide to have my lunch break in the local park. I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree with the wind blowing through the leaves, causing shadows to dance on the manicured lawn.The weather is good; warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about. Flower beds adorn the park, hibiscus, chrysanthemum, azaleas and more, a patchwork quilt of flora.

The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and pass times. A man not much younger than I am, walks past me in his well pressed business suit, talking on his mobile phone a little too loudly trying to sound important to those in earshot, or trying to sound important to himself.

An elderly couple are sitting on a picnic blanket on the lawn, their silver hair shining in the afternoon Sun. Homemade sandwiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content but their eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship; should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.

A young female runner jogs past them, her toned body a billboard for her generation. Her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the Sun. Tight fitting running clothes worn to enhance her performance and to leave those who look at her envious, an object of their sexual desire and manufactured jealousy. She runs past a group of teenage school kids, as she passes the boys mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls, who roll their eyes.

A young couple with smiles on their faces, walk past hand in hand. They watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosy cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face but for now, he is content with sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T. V.
The park, the people the scenarios all of them a postcard, a cliche of modern thought and actions.

A small bird grabs my attention, a sparrow I think. He is doing a little hop type of dance in front of a clump of bushes; he darts into them, coming out with a small bug in his beak and flies up into a tree. He returns moments later to do the same thing again. The more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him. I wonder if he is feeding his young and is it just instinct that drives him to do this, or is it parental love. Will he get frustrated if he cannot get enough food? Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? Will it break if one day she does not return? Does he know of fear? Will he cower in the treetops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkindly because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? Will he sing that little bit louder when the Sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and creation? Is he aware of me, as I am of him and does he know of man, or war and death? If he is aware of all of these then I feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the folly of man and yet, if he is not aware, I am equally sorry for him; for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all.

Can I please have your opinion on this poem/short story i wrote?

THOUGHTS IN SPRING

It is a normal spring day and I decide to have my lunch break in the local park. I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree with the wind blowing through the leaves, causing shadows to dance on the manicured lawn.The weather is good; warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about. Flower beds adorn the park, hibiscus, chrysanthemum, azaleas and more, a patchwork quilt of flora.

The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and pass times. A man not much younger than I am, walks past me in his well pressed business suit, talking on his mobile phone a little too loudly trying to sound important to those in earshot, or trying to sound important to himself.

An elderly couple are sitting on a picnic blanket on the lawn, their silver hair shining in the afternoon Sun. Homemade sandwiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content but their eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship; should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.

A young female runner jogs past them, her toned body a billboard for her generation. Her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the Sun. Tight fitting running clothes worn to enhance her performance and to leave those who look at her envious, an object of their sexual desire and manufactured jealousy. She runs past a group of teenage school kids, as she passes the boys mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls, who roll their eyes.

A young couple with smiles on their faces, walk past hand in hand. They watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosy cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face but for now, he is content with sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T. V.
The park, the people the scenarios all of them a postcard, a cliche of modern thought and actions.

A small bird grabs my attention, a sparrow I think. He is doing a little hop type of dance in front of a clump of bushes; he darts into them, coming out with a small bug in his beak and flies up into a tree. He returns moments later to do the same thing again. The more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him. I wonder if he is feeding his young and is it just instinct that drives him to do this, or is it parental love. Will he get frustrated if he cannot get enough food? Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? Will it break if one day she does not return? Does he know of fear? Will he cower in the treetops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkindly because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? Will he sing that little bit louder when the Sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and creation? Is he aware of me, as I am of him and does he know of man, or war and death? If he is aware of all of these then I feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the folly of man and yet, if he is not aware, I am equally sorry for him; for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all.

Thoughts In Spring, my essay, please comment?

It is a normal spring day and I decide to have my lunch break in the local park. I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree with the wind blowing through the leaves, causing shadows to dance on the manicured lawn.The weather is good; warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about.

The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and pass times. A man not much younger than I am, walks past me in his well pressed business suit, talking on his mobile phone a little too loudly trying to sound important to those in earshot, or trying to sound important to himself.

An elderly couple are sitting on a picnic blanket on the lawn, their silver hair shining in the afternoon Sun. Homemade sandwiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content but their eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship; should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.

A young female runner jogs past them, her toned body a billboard for her generation. Her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the Sun. Tight fitting running clothes to enhance her performance and to leave those who look at her, envious, an object of their sexual desire. She runs past a group of teenage school kids and as she passes the boys mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls, who roll their eyes.

A young couple with smiles on their faces, walk past hand in hand. They watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosy cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face but for now, he is content with sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T.V.

A small bird grabs my attention, a sparrow I think. He is doing a little hop type of dance in front of a clump of bushes; he darts into them, coming out with a small bug in his beak and flies up into a tree. He returns moments later to do the same thing again. The more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him. I wonder if he is feeding his young and is it just instinct that drives him to do this, or is it parental love. Will he get frustrated if he cannot get enough food? Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? Will it break if one day she does not return? Does he know of fear? Will he cower in the treetops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkindly because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? Will he sing that little bit louder when the Sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and creation? Is he aware of me, as I am of him and does he know of man, or war and death? If he is aware of all of these then I feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the folly of man and yet, if he is not aware, I am equally sorry for him; for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all.

Thoughts In Spring, please comment?

It is a normal spring day and I decide to have my lunch break in the local park. I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree with the wind blowing through the leaves, causing shadows to dance on the manicured lawn.The weather is good; warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about.

The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and pass times. A man not much younger than I am, walks past me in his well pressed business suit, talking on his mobile phone a little too loudly trying to sound important to those in earshot, or trying to sound important to himself.

An elderly couple are sitting on a picnic blanket on the lawn, their silver hair shining in the afternoon Sun. Homemade sandwiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content but their eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship; should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.

A young female runner jogs past them, her toned body a billboard for her generation. Her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the Sun. Tight fitting running clothes to enhance her performance and to leave those who look at her, envious, an object of their sexual desire. She runs past a group of teenage school kids and as she passes the boys mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls, who roll their eyes.

A young couple with smiles on their faces, walk past hand in hand. They watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosy cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face but for now, he is content with sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T.V.

A small bird grabs my attention, a sparrow I think. He is doing a little hop type of dance in front of a clump of bushes; he darts into them, coming out with a small bug in his beak and flies up into a tree. He returns moments later to do the same thing again. The more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him. I wonder if he is feeding his young and is it just instinct that drives him to do this, or is it parental love. Will he get frustrated if he cannot get enough food? Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? Will it break if one day she does not return? Does he know of fear? Will he cower in the treetops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkindly because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? Will he sing that little bit louder when the Sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and creation? Is he aware of me, as I am of him and does he know of man, or war and death? If he is aware of all of these then I feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the folly of man and yet, if he is not aware, I am equally sorry for him; for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all.
1 week ago

Could you read this and tell me what you think of it?

We have to write our life stories for english. I want to know if I’m writing about the right stuff, not grammer. I will edit the grammer once I figure out if I’m writing about the right stuff.

I was born at ********* ****** ******* on May 26. 1995. I lived with my mom, dad, big sister, and big brother. My brother and sister were both 10 the year I was born. My mom stayed at home to take care of me, and my dad was a lawyer.
I met my first friend, Katie, when I was 2. She was 9 when I met her. We would have a lot of fun making up games and stuff. I met my second friend, Ashly, when I was 3. My grandma babysat for her. We used to have tea parties and play with our doll babies.
When I was 3 I attended my first dance class. I did ballet and tap and I loved it. I also started pre school at ** ******. That is where I met two of my best friends, Katelyn and Carolina. My brother also went to military school at ** ***** when I was 3. My life as a toddler was very simple. I would wake up, go to school, come home and play. I played by myself a lot because of the age differance between my sister and me.
I started kindergarten at ******** Elementry when I was 5. I had Ms. ******. My best friends were Katie, Katelyn, and Carolina. I was a good student, I didn’t get in trouble a lot. I continued to take dance. I also started playing the piano when I was 5. My first grade year didn’t bring much change.
In 2nd grade I made a new best friend, Sidney. I also had an excellent teacher, Mrs. ******. I was a good student, making mostly A’s. 2nd grade was when I joined the competitive dance team at my studio. I really loved competing.
I had Mrs. ****** again on 3rd grade. My life pretty much stayed the same. My sister went to college, and my grandma moved accross the state though. This is when I began taking Hebrew school lessons to prepare for my Bat Mitzvah. I didn’t really grasp the concept of being Jewish until 3rd grade.
In 4th grade I got to move up to the “big kid hall”. We began changing teachers to get ready for middle school. Sidney and I were still best friends. I continued my dancing and still played the piano.
5th grade didn’t bring much change. I had the same teachers, friends, and did the same activities. I got in trouble for the first time in 5th grade. I forged my fathers signature on a paper I forgot to get signed. I learned my lesson by serving after school detention. That was the worst thing I had ever done, and didn’t plan to do it again.
6th grade, I finally made it to ****** middle school, home of the Falcons. I got seperated from Sidney, not having any classes with her. I made two new best friends, Hollie and Kayla. They were also in my dance class. I really loved middle school. I made straight A’s and liked all my teachers. I also started playing volleyball in 6th grade. I played on the rec league team, the Strikerz. I came up with the team name myself. During my 6th grade year, my sister moved to Germany. I took this really hard, I missed her so much.
7th grade would have to be my favorite year. I made a new friend, Emily. Her locker was below mine. I had my favorite teacher, Mrs. ******. She helped me discover my love of reading. I played volleyball again in 7th grade, for the Crushers this time. I still danced, and this year I got to help teach the little kids. It was really fun. I had my Bat Mitzvah at the end of 7th grade. It was a great experiance. I also joined my temple youth group and became a part of NFTY ***.
Now I have entered my 8th grade year. My teachers are okay, I liked them better last year though. I’m taking 3 high school credit classes, and have made all A’s so far. I was recently enducted into the honors society. I am really active at my temple this year. We are planning on going to NYC in the spring. I am really loving dance. This year is my first year in pointe, and I love my new teacher, Ms. *****. I’m also teaching the little girls again. I didn’t do volleyball this year. My brother is currently deployed in Iraq. I miss him a lot. I finally got a cell phone, that I obsessively text on. I have a boyfriend, Gage, I like him a lot. I have a lot of friends this year, more than I’ve ever had. I really like my life right now, but I am always open for change.

SORRY THIS IS SO LONG! What I’m asking for is
-opinions
-did I write about the right stuff?
-should I take anything out? add anything?

THANK YOU!