adrianr
Member
- Joined
- Feb 22, 2014
- Member Type
- Student or Learner
- Native Language
- British English
- Home Country
- Canada
- Current Location
- Canada
Hi
I am an older student and have returned to college for medical reasons. I have not taken an English course in 26 years, and I've just finished a very short 4 week communications course. Two days ago we were assigned two short essays (Narrative and Descriptive) and they are worth 20% of my final grade and due to be passed in on Monday. I just completed them and would really appreciate it if someone could look them over. I'd go to a pay-site for this, but being a father of three and a full-time student, that is not an option right now. The essays are to be graded on sentence structure, grammar, punctuation, and spelling. Please help!
My Most Favorite Spot (descriptive)
It’s a beautiful, hot, sunny day as you turn right off topsail road and head down over a steep hill. A 90-degree to the right and then and 90-degree turn to the left and you are at the entrance to Topsail Beach Rotary Park. To your left is a body of freshwater fed by several ponds in the area, which drains into Conception Bay. Several fishermen stand on the shoreline casting for the elusive, but tasty, sea trout; while a duck swims casually by, five of her ducklings paddling furiously to keep up with her. A large Herring Gull gliding just above the surface of the pond is startled by a splashing lure, beats its wings and soars into the sky.
Driving further down the lane you pass through a stand of white spruce trees; and a squirrel scurries across the road, a spruce cone clutched firmly in its jaws. It is then that you begin to hear the laughs and screams of delighted children as they splash in the pond and frolic on the playground. At that point you enter the circular parking area and pull in to an angled parking slot. Shutting off the car you get out and inhale deeply, relishing the smell of the salt water.
Your eyes are drawn up and to the right to gaze at the 200 meter high crest of Topsail Bluff, and you can’t help but imagine the size of the glacier that carved the sheer cliff face. For centuries erosion has worn away at the escarpment to form a pile of sharp, jagged stone at the base; that pile of scree ends at a tree line. Your attention is caught by a Bald Eagle leaping from its nest on the rock face; it spreads its wings and majestically glides out over the sparkling bay.
Three islands jut sharply from Conception Bay that were also formed by glacial activity, their borders also formed into sheer cliffs. The sun glints off the water as a Sea-Doo skims over the water, casting plumes of white spray in its wake. A flock of gulls soars overhead, their cries echoing through the air, as you spy a lobster fisherman leaning over the gunwale of his boat struggling to haul a pot from the depths.
You walk down over the path, the scent of freshly cut grass filling your nostrils as you step onto the beach; it is littered with driftwood and an assortment of other objects that have been tossed there by the waves. As you pass one of the many charred fire-pits that are scattered around the beach, you notice puffs of smoke still streaming for the coals of last night’s fire. A wave rolls gently onto the shore and as it rushes back out into the sea, it drags rocks with it and they make a clicking sound as they bang together. Looking it all over once more, you realize that Topsail Beach is surely one of the most picturesque bays in Newfoundland.
A Sad Event in My Life (Narrative)
“Ok! Go ahead and replace the panel!” said John, he paused to listen to the caller and said, “Thanks, I’ll talk to you later.” He hung up and explained to me the problems he was having with the home he and his wife had just purchased. John was an elderly, kind, good natured man who had spent most of his life as a Stevedore in ******* Harbour; he was loved by all that knew him. He placed his beaten hard hat on his head and said, “See you later.” As I watched him walk away from the trailer, I never could have imagined I would be the last person to ever speak with him.
I watched him approach a stack of intermodal 40 foot containers and went back to work on the report I was preparing. About 15 minutes later a call came in for the Pier Superintendant who wasn’t in the office; I then called him on the radio to inform he had to return the call. He said that he was busy and would call back later but I knew from the sound of his voice that he was very upset. “What’s wrong Larry?” I asked, he said “nothing, stay where you are!” When I laid the radio down I realized the usually noisy container yard was silent, and then I heard sirens in the distance. Something was wrong!
Grabbing my hard had and vest, I bolted through the door and head toward the center of the yard. The fire trucks were very close now and the driver was repeatedly sounding his air horn to clear traffic. The sound caused chills to run down my spine and then I spotted a group of Stevedores through one of the stacks; it was exactly where I had seen John heading. I was close enough to see they were extremely upset and began to run harder. I wish I hadn’t!
Passing the corner of the stack I saw Gerry, a port policeman, performing CPR on John. Gary was sobbing as she stood and went to his police car to retrieve a blanket from the trunk. The image of John’s blackened and distorted face being covered will haunt me for the rest of my life. We all stood there in shock until the first responders arrived and cleared us from the scene.
After leaving my office John had decided to take a short cut through a stack of containers. Investigators determined that he heard a lift truck approaching and decided to wait in the stack until it passed. That very same lift truck struck the 40 foot container John has been standing next to and pushed it into a sea-can 5 feet away. John was crushed in between.
There was very little support from management after the accident. I became disillusioned with the company leaders and going to work became a chore I no longer loved. That loss will be with me for the rest of my life and is one of the main reasons I’ve chosen a career in OHS.
I am an older student and have returned to college for medical reasons. I have not taken an English course in 26 years, and I've just finished a very short 4 week communications course. Two days ago we were assigned two short essays (Narrative and Descriptive) and they are worth 20% of my final grade and due to be passed in on Monday. I just completed them and would really appreciate it if someone could look them over. I'd go to a pay-site for this, but being a father of three and a full-time student, that is not an option right now. The essays are to be graded on sentence structure, grammar, punctuation, and spelling. Please help!
My Most Favorite Spot (descriptive)
It’s a beautiful, hot, sunny day as you turn right off topsail road and head down over a steep hill. A 90-degree to the right and then and 90-degree turn to the left and you are at the entrance to Topsail Beach Rotary Park. To your left is a body of freshwater fed by several ponds in the area, which drains into Conception Bay. Several fishermen stand on the shoreline casting for the elusive, but tasty, sea trout; while a duck swims casually by, five of her ducklings paddling furiously to keep up with her. A large Herring Gull gliding just above the surface of the pond is startled by a splashing lure, beats its wings and soars into the sky.
Driving further down the lane you pass through a stand of white spruce trees; and a squirrel scurries across the road, a spruce cone clutched firmly in its jaws. It is then that you begin to hear the laughs and screams of delighted children as they splash in the pond and frolic on the playground. At that point you enter the circular parking area and pull in to an angled parking slot. Shutting off the car you get out and inhale deeply, relishing the smell of the salt water.
Your eyes are drawn up and to the right to gaze at the 200 meter high crest of Topsail Bluff, and you can’t help but imagine the size of the glacier that carved the sheer cliff face. For centuries erosion has worn away at the escarpment to form a pile of sharp, jagged stone at the base; that pile of scree ends at a tree line. Your attention is caught by a Bald Eagle leaping from its nest on the rock face; it spreads its wings and majestically glides out over the sparkling bay.
Three islands jut sharply from Conception Bay that were also formed by glacial activity, their borders also formed into sheer cliffs. The sun glints off the water as a Sea-Doo skims over the water, casting plumes of white spray in its wake. A flock of gulls soars overhead, their cries echoing through the air, as you spy a lobster fisherman leaning over the gunwale of his boat struggling to haul a pot from the depths.
You walk down over the path, the scent of freshly cut grass filling your nostrils as you step onto the beach; it is littered with driftwood and an assortment of other objects that have been tossed there by the waves. As you pass one of the many charred fire-pits that are scattered around the beach, you notice puffs of smoke still streaming for the coals of last night’s fire. A wave rolls gently onto the shore and as it rushes back out into the sea, it drags rocks with it and they make a clicking sound as they bang together. Looking it all over once more, you realize that Topsail Beach is surely one of the most picturesque bays in Newfoundland.
A Sad Event in My Life (Narrative)
“Ok! Go ahead and replace the panel!” said John, he paused to listen to the caller and said, “Thanks, I’ll talk to you later.” He hung up and explained to me the problems he was having with the home he and his wife had just purchased. John was an elderly, kind, good natured man who had spent most of his life as a Stevedore in ******* Harbour; he was loved by all that knew him. He placed his beaten hard hat on his head and said, “See you later.” As I watched him walk away from the trailer, I never could have imagined I would be the last person to ever speak with him.
I watched him approach a stack of intermodal 40 foot containers and went back to work on the report I was preparing. About 15 minutes later a call came in for the Pier Superintendant who wasn’t in the office; I then called him on the radio to inform he had to return the call. He said that he was busy and would call back later but I knew from the sound of his voice that he was very upset. “What’s wrong Larry?” I asked, he said “nothing, stay where you are!” When I laid the radio down I realized the usually noisy container yard was silent, and then I heard sirens in the distance. Something was wrong!
Grabbing my hard had and vest, I bolted through the door and head toward the center of the yard. The fire trucks were very close now and the driver was repeatedly sounding his air horn to clear traffic. The sound caused chills to run down my spine and then I spotted a group of Stevedores through one of the stacks; it was exactly where I had seen John heading. I was close enough to see they were extremely upset and began to run harder. I wish I hadn’t!
Passing the corner of the stack I saw Gerry, a port policeman, performing CPR on John. Gary was sobbing as she stood and went to his police car to retrieve a blanket from the trunk. The image of John’s blackened and distorted face being covered will haunt me for the rest of my life. We all stood there in shock until the first responders arrived and cleared us from the scene.
After leaving my office John had decided to take a short cut through a stack of containers. Investigators determined that he heard a lift truck approaching and decided to wait in the stack until it passed. That very same lift truck struck the 40 foot container John has been standing next to and pushed it into a sea-can 5 feet away. John was crushed in between.
There was very little support from management after the accident. I became disillusioned with the company leaders and going to work became a chore I no longer loved. That loss will be with me for the rest of my life and is one of the main reasons I’ve chosen a career in OHS.
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