2016-2017 | Page 24

STOPPING by WOODS on a SNOWY EVENING The man was riding his pure white horse enthusiastically. However, his ride was like a ballet on his horse; calm, pleasant, esthetic. The freezing winds were hitting and hurting harshly his face, taking his breath away and filling his lungs with the bitter cold air. He paused near the woods by a farmer’s house. “I think I know the woods over here” he said to himself. He got off his horse and started to watch the snow falling around him. The wind was almost leading the way for each and every snowflake. “How amazing!” he thought. Every single snowflake was dropping in such great harmony. His boots crunched through the powdered snow. The world around him was imprisoned with deep dark silence. Only the sounds he could barely hear, but for the easy moody wind – all of it created the very sound of each and every sweep and downy flake. It was getting darker, and the lonely sky was up above in deeper harmony. Actually, it was the darkest evening of the year. When some stars trıed to shine over the gloomy land they could diminish the sky’s loneliness and lighting it up. Our man’s horse was shaking his harness bels, questioning the pause. Even the horse wondered if something went wrong because they went off from their usual route and it was not really possible to find a farmhouse nearby. The man just stood there for a while longer as he was attracted by the beauty of nature. He took a handful of snow from the ground and squeezed it in his hands, making a snowball. He was almost able to see the other side when he was looking through the snowball. After a while, he ultimately decided to continue on his way, no matter how long he could have wanted to stay. Maybe the woods were lovely, amazing, and adorable but he has promises to keep, duties to do. He could not have fallen to the charms of nature and set himself too far away. He had difficulties to face and fights to put up with. Life is not lovely as the woods around him. He has promises to keep and miles to go before to sleep. So many miles to go before he sleeps… Esra ATLI 9-A SNOWY FOREST There is our man with old wrinkled hands. Let’s call him Jack. Jack is not too old but his hands are tired of cutting firewood, carrying the woods, while repairing the roof of his house. His hands are so devasted and disgusted with the up-and-down moving of the axe to the right and to the left. His eyes are tired of crying every night when facing the odds that he can’t even afford to buy a pair of shoes for his children – after a day of hard work. His feet are getting bored to walk from the village to the city in his everyday attempt to sell the few things he has had on sale. His mind is full of unceasing sounds that keep preventing him to fall asleep. This is why Jack is standing all alone in the middle of the forest on this dreadful snowy evening. Several snowflakes are falling gravely to the ground. It seems like the stars are slopping from the sky one by one. Each and every snowflake is waiting for someone to step over their perfect reunion wıth all the other ones. The trees are competing to catch these snowflakes while their shadows are dancing with the wind and valsing with Jack as ıf they were greetıng him all along his way through the forest. The wind is washing his hair in the harsh sorow of the snow storm. The branches of the huge trees are forming a path for him to go – yet, he is just standing and staring at the magnificent sky. The harmony of white, blue and black colors makes him recall of his childhood, of his brother and all of his friends. He remembers himself running through the forests while playing hide and seek with his brother and his friends on such snowy days. He still remembers how much he used to like making swords out of the leafless branches, fighting then in a role-play with his brother. Jack still feels the beauty and the joy of those serene times: no sorrow, not even a sad moment could trouble him at all. Yet, his biggest fear then - was staying alone in the dark. And now, he is all alone in the dark standing by as if he were a Guardian of those joyful times. They used to live in a cottage. His father was a lumberjack as he ıs now. His mother was so strong that she could resist all the problems they had. His father and mother helped Jack have a beautiful childhood even though they were not wealthy. Now, it is Jack’s time when he should do the same. He has to go on – as he has promises to keep. His children need to think of him as a strong man so that they could live a happy, joyful life. He trıes to keep his worries of the worst behind. He keeps going on and on, walking calmly on his path, quickening his steps. He doesn’t look at his feet, he just looks up at the rising sun. Zeynep Aslı ZIRH 9-C 24 THE CLAPPER 2016 - 2017