Donut Earth

Planet Doughnut
What if the world was shaped like a doughnut? Imagine for a moment that the inside of the world is hollow and the “donut hole” of the Earth floated away long ago. On the outside of Donut Earth, things would be pretty similar to the way they are now, with land, water, air, and mountains. But the landmasses would be different, with their own unique history. All the world’s rivers would flow to the outer edge, while humans on the inner edge could look up at the sky and see the distant surface of the other side of the Earth. Also, there would be distinct differences in the strength of gravity. Imagine going to the inner edge, where the center of the donut used to be, and relaxing in a low gravity zone. Here, one could jump ten feet up in the air with ease. Even better, space travel would be easy through the center of the Donut Earth, where one would be essentially weightless, with the Earth revolving around. This donut of a world would also have plenty of land and water, much more than the current Earth, which means there would be more of the Earth to enjoy. One major difference, however, is that night and day would be completely different, where the Sun’s light would shine only on the outside edge of Donut Earth, or Donut Earth would need to revolve on more than one axis. Either way, days would be different than they are now. In addition, world trade and the entire human experience would be radically different. In fact, humans probably would not exist on Donut Earth, but instead another intelligent species. But if humans did exist, then perhaps we would spend our days on the sunny side of the inner edge of Donut Earth, or exist entirely on the outer edge, where the sun would shine much like it does now. World trade would also be different in that rockets could travel easily along the missing inside of Donut Earth. All in all, Donut Earth would be a strange place.
Revisions
I added a short section about how humans may not form on a donut-shaped Earth, but instead other forms of life. As for a deletion, I deleted the short phrase concerning the Sun and whether it could be shaped like a donut. Substitution wise, I replaced the phrase “Even stranger,” with “One major difference, however, is that,” as this revised phrase better clarifies the sentence. For the most part, the revisions clarified the meaning of the paper, while expanding on the ideas behind it. The revisions better defined my purpose.

MT. Tuka-Taka

A cloud washes over Mt. Tuka-taka like an ocean wave, engulfing the mountain in white. The cloud rolls up the slope of Tuka-taka in a desperate attempt to reach the top before it flows to the other side. Like a sandcastle at a beach, the mountain is caught in the unrelenting clouds, yet the mountain continues to stand as the clouds are forced around it. Snow also covers the mountain in white, flowing off the top in great stripes. It is as if the mountain became a volcano, and erupted snow down its sides. And on one of these sides (the less cloudy side), a lone farmer walks with his goats.
The farmer also sees the snow on the mountain, but is unaware of the battle between sky and mountain occurring above his head. The farmer continues walking through the snow with his goats as they ascend to the cave where he stores his cheese and wine. While walking, the farmer contemplates the snack he will have when he reaches the cave that his grandfather once owned and which he now owns with his brother. “I will try the goat cheese with cranberries first,” the farmer thinks to himself. After all, that is why he is herding eight goats to the cave. Above him the sky turns white: a monstrous cloud has rushed over the edge of the mountain and now hangs in the air, rolling slowly upwards. To the distant observer, this is another beautiful cloud formation, a battle in the war between mountain and cloud. But the farmer knows differently: this is the beginning of a blizzard.
The farmer knows that there are only two options: he can travel back to his house, or he can continue to his cave. The farmer decides on the cave, as it is only a half-kilometer around the side of the mountain, while his home is more than four kilometers away. The farmer hurriedly herds his goats towards the cave, hoping that the blizzard will not overtake him. First snow, and then sleet, begins to fall on the mountain and farmer. Luckily, the farmer makes it to his cave in time to see clouds completely engulf the mountain, a signal that the blizzard has begun. Snow falls heavily while the farmer retreats to the back of the cave to build a fire and enjoy vittles stored in the cave. The farmer is not worried about the blizzard outside, as he knows that in this battle, the mountain will emerge victorious over the clouds threatening to engulf it.
Time Picture

The Park Puzzle

As the population of the United States grows larger, our land area remains the same. Cities, towns, and suburbs sprawl ever faster into the surrounding semi-wilderness, where previously only a few families lived. Increasingly, farmland is converted to city streets and small urban parks where every plant did not start its life there. As this happens, more people travel outside of the cities on vacations to wilderness. This creates a conundrum; as more people vacation in the same national park, the park becomes overcrowded and like the city they came from. In addition, when the city folk come, they bring trash, noise, kids, pushy people, and disrespect for animals. However, they often leave with a respect for nature and fewer kids (lol) (though they still leave trash and are still noisy). Clearly, there must be a way to allow the most people to enjoy national parks while still keeping them wild.
One current program is “Leave no Trace.” This is actually a Boy Scout-inspired idea. The idea is for individuals to carry their trash to trash receptacles (even if they are hiking or backpacking) in order to keep the parks free of trash. This works well for hikers and backpackers, who tend to have a greater interest in and respect for nature, but has little effect on the majority of visitors who come to take pictures of the Grand Canyon and Yosemite, but not actually enjoy the surrounding park. These visitors stay in hotels and apartments, and leave trash around the park (and more of those kids). “Leave no Trace” doesn’t affect these people, so it is not a great solution to keeping parks wild.
Another solution is to limit the amount of people who can enter a park. This is typically on a first-come, first-serve basis, and has been employed at Yellowstone and other popular parks. This doesn’t allow everyone to visit a park, and turns the park into a regulated human experience, instead of a wild trip through nature where you are your own master. However, the limiting system does keep the number of people down so that park staff are not overwhelmed and can effectively clean up the mess of each day.
As you can tell, there is not a clear and easy solution that allows everyone to visit national parks while keeping them wild, but I leave it open to the reader to come up with a better solution.

The structure of “The Little Store” contains various elements that contribute to the meaning of the story, including the childlike perspective, foreshadowing, and the characterization of Mr. Sessions.
The story is told from a child’s perspective, which contributes to the structure in that the child gradually unveils the event concerning the Session family. From her naïve perspective, we are told about the stores impact on her childhood, including the violent act that she could not determine. Information about the story is kept “down at a child’s eye level,” giving the story a naïve structure (157). From the child’s perspective, the trip to the grocery store is like an adventure to a far-away place. The structure is important here in order to convey the going and returning of the child, but at the end, the author discusses a different trip to the store. This second trip has a darker theme, culminating in the event that changed the way the author thinks about the Little Grocery Store. The structure is such that we are shown a happy instance of Mr. Sessions, then a darker, mysterious instance of the same man, where “it may be harder to recognize kindness – or unkindness, either – in a face whose eyes are in shadow (159).” The author structures the story in this way so that the reader is left in the dark about what the author is trying to convey until the very end of the story, and even then it is hard to tell what the author wants us to walk away from the story with (are we supposed to believe that grocers are scary people, or that shady people can appear nice but are evil?).
The author effectively uses foreshadowing to supplement the structure of the story. The author carefully begins with carefree days, and then moves to what the Little Grocery Store is like. On the trip home from the store, the author foreshadows the end when she says that one could also travel through the sewer in order to get home, where “you could go in darkness through this tunnel to where you next saw light (if you ever did) (158).” The author also foreshadows a darkness when she brings up the time she saw the Monkey Man, a shadowy figure who invades the sanctity of her world by showing up at the grocery store.
In characterizing the store and Mr. Sessions, Welty gives us a wealth of information. Firstly, the store appeals to the sense of smell before all other senses. Welty describes entering the store and while her eyes are adjusting to the light, she can smell everything about the store. She then goes on to describe the store through sight, leaving out touch and sound. This gives us a vivid shot of what the store is like, as the sights and smells are most powerful.

I am from a lot of places. I was born on Earth, which revolves around the Sun. I am also from the United States of America, a place on the North American continent. I am also from Georgia and from Atlanta, a city. On the Northern outskirts of Atlanta, Georgia, the U.S.A., Earth, there is a suburb called Marietta, where I live in a house at 3067 Wicks Lake Dr., in the Wicks Lake neighborhood. With so many places to define where I came from, there are plenty of cultural assumptions. As an American, I am lumped in with the general (and disliked) view of American tourists by other countries. As a Georgian, I am called out on my Southern accent and red-neck ways. As an Atlantan, paradoxically, I am known for Atlanta’s cultural and economic growths, while the Marietta suburbs bring upper-middle class connotations. All of these places developed my sense of where I am from. When two travelers meet and ask one another where they are from, they share stories about their hometowns or when they have been to a place near the other’s home. They trade funny happenings about the places where they grew up, proof that the places we grow up in leave a powerful mark on our lives. Where we grow up at also affects how we perceive the world, as people who grow up in rough neighborhoods perceive the world as hostile and act accordingly. My own perception is skewed towards learning as the highest goal, from attending schools where this is the highest priority. The people around me also leave their mark, as they too are products of the places they have grown up in. For instance, many of my high school friends detested camping and the outdoors in general, while the members of my Boy Scout troop loved to camp, yet both groups came from the same place. This suggests that the places that each of groups went to camp changed their perception of camping indelibly. Also, every person had a unique experience at a particular place that gives a continuum of views about camping (or anything else). Some went to an overcrowded campsite where it rained the whole weekend, giving the impression that camping was terrible idea, while others went to a secluded spot high in the mountains and enjoyed a weekend with their family and friends enjoying the outdoors.

I fiddle with the doorknob, finally opening it. In the newly created opening, I see an attractive young woman. She smiles at me as I hold the door open for her to pass. I return the smile, but nothing intelligible comes to my mind to say, so I continue on my way towards lunch. “It’s all a matter of keeping my eyes open,” I think to myself. A cold wind blows as I step onto the sidewalk, carrying life to new places. Above me, a solitary hawk floats in an upstream of warmer air. From the hawk’s perspective, I am meaningless, a mere visual curiosity quickly dismissed as inedible. At her height, however, she can clearly see three squirrels scampering up three different trees in between the buildings. Unlike me, she is not hungry, and merely watches the squirrels moving below. She sees only what she wants to see, unconcerned with anything other than squirrels. Like me, we only see what we want to see. I continue walking on the sidewalk, unconcerned about the hawk and no longer seeing her. Two people walk past me, but I only look at them long enough to determine that I do not know them, and not taking the time to see them either. I look up at the tree and see leaves and branches, which is what I expect to see. However, I only see the songbird mere feet from my head as I look away from the tree. Surprised, I look back at the branch to confirm that there is a bird. Unlike the hawk, this songbird sees me as a possible predator, and alights from its branch to pursue other tasks away from me. I continue to walk towards the student center, now only looking at the various objects around. I climb some stairs, at the top of which is a maintenance vehicle. The vehicle piques my interest, and I wonder briefly about how it works. I see the muffler, smoke coming from the end of it, and see that, although small, the car runs on gas, not electricity. No longer concerned with the functioning of the vehicle, I stop seeing it and continue walking. I hear a high-pitched squeal and look in the direction of the vehicle. The vehicle has just stopped its movement towards me, now only inches from my feet. I begin to realize that I should have seen the car moving earlier, though I was merely looking, not seeing it at the time.