All five incorporate at least one of the themes in The Odyssey by homer and are broad enough so that it will be easy to find textual support, yet narrow enough to provide a focused clear thesis statement. These thesis statements offer a short summary of The Odyssey in terms of different elements that could be important in an essay. You are, of course, free to add your own analysis and understanding of the plot or themes to them for your essay. Using the essay topics below in conjunction with the list of important"s from The Odyssey by homer, you should have no trouble connecting with the text and writing an excellent essay. Be sure to also check out the paperstarter entry on The Iliad, also by homer. Thesis Statement / Essay topic #1: like father, like son : Father son Relationships in The Odyssey.
India's, green, revolution
Photo matt maggie kareus/Natural Habitat Adventures. Scenery: During the dry season, botswanas sparse plains stretch far into the distance. The driest months, june through August, bring conditions dustier than normal. The lush foliage of the green season—contrasted with the stunningly blue african sky—creates a breathtaking backdrop for photographers. And dissertation an afternoon storm may reward you with a rainbow or two streaking across the sky. Traveling by mokoro, a traditional dugout canoe, through the okavango delta. Photo don Martinson/Natural Habitat Adventures, the landscape of the okavango delta can change dramatically depending on the water level, which is affected less by the seasonal rainfall and more by water traveling from the Angola highlands. Therefore, somewhat counterintuitively, the highest water levels occur from June to august, when many snaking waterways become small lakes. Regardless of the time of year, the ever-changing floodplain can be explored by mokoro (traditional dugout canoe). Travel to botswana with wwf and Nat Hab. Below you will find five outstanding thesis statements for The Odyssey by homer that can be used as essay starters or paper topics.
Its such a surreal experience to see elephants wading and swimming in the river, using their trunks as snorkels, alongside hippos plunging loudly into the river and crocodiles sunning themselves on the river banks. Chobe national Park has the highest concentration of elephants in Africa, numbering around 70,000. Photo alex Komarnitsky/Natural Habitat Adventures. The green for season is when grazing animals give birth, so youll likely spot young impala, springbok and zebra trailing behind their mothers. In turn, the areas predators—leopard, lion, cheetah, spotted hyena and wild dog—target the vulnerable babies, and dramatic hunting scenes may unfold in front of you. Large herds can be found grazing on the plentiful grass in the kalahari at this time of year, too. Rivers such as the Chobe and Gomoti sustains a variety of wildlife and also attracts predators such as the leopard.
Northern Botswana in particular, where our tours normally run, is known for its high number of birds. Wildlife viewing: The dry seasons grass is low and sparse and trees are leafless, allowing visitors to easily spot wildlife, even from far away. There are also fewer watering holes, so its less difficult to predict where animals will congregate. For these reasons, youll see more animals, and in greater variety, during this time writing of year. Chobe national Parks famous elephant herds are in full force during the dry season. The abundance of wildlife wasnt lost on Matt Lewis, a senior program officer for. Wwf, viewing elephants from a boat on the Chobe river was a moment of a lifetime.
Mosquitoes, while more prevalent, can be easily managed with proper insect repellent and shouldnt detract from your safari. During Botswanas green season, rainstorms usually arrive in the late afternoon and last for short lengths. Botswana mainly consists of the kalahari desert so rainfall is still typically low overall. Photo deborah doyle/Natural Habitat Adventures, crowds: The countrys commitment to small-scale eco-tourism means you wont see many tourists compared with many other safari destinations, regardless of the time of year. However, more people do travel to botswana during the dry season, particularly during school summer breaks in July and August. During the green season, you may find you have lodges, roads and watering holes largely to yourself. Birding: Botswana has an impressive population of birds year-round—Pels fishing-owl, slaty egrets and wattled cranes among them. But for the avid birder, the green season is unquestionably the best time to visit as additional species migrate to the country to breed and nest.
Botswana's Green season
Yellow the goal for Aussie tour team. Australian cycling team Mitchelton-Scott are remaining measured in their expectations but still believe they can punch above their weight. By marsea nelson, guest Blogger, botswanas dry season —occurring report June through September—is traditionally the most popular time to visit the southern Africa nation. Animals are plentiful and easily seen, and the weather is usually pleasant. But the wetter green season —generally from December through March—offers a different side of Africa, when breeding and hunting occurs amidst rich vegetation. Climate: During the dry season, evenings are cool or even cold, so layering is a must.
Afternoon temperatures range from warm to hot (particularly in October). The low humidity at this time of year attracts fewer bugs, including mosquitoes. In Botswanas green season, though youll certainly encounter more rain, showers wont occur every day and, when they do, theyll likely be sporadic. Spectacular lightning and thunderstorms are an added bonus. Afternoon temperatures are hot and humidity is often high.
Summer died in New England and like rain sliding off a roof, the crowd slipped out of Fenway, quickly, with only a steady murmur of concern for the drive ahead remaining of the roar. Mutability had turned the seasons and translated hope to memory once again. And, once again, she had used baseball, our best invention to stay change, to bring change. That is why it breaks my heart, that game-not because in New York they could win because boston lost; in that, there is a rough justice, and a reminder to the yankees of how slight and fragile are the circumstances that exalt one group. It breaks my heart because it was meant to, because it was meant to foster in me again the illusion that there was something abiding, some pattern and some impulse that could come together to make a reality that would resist the corrosion; and because.
Of course, there are those who learn after the first few times. They grow out of sports. And there are others who were born with the wisdom to know that nothing lasts. These are the truly tough among us, the ones who can live without illusion, or without even the hope of illusion. I am not that grown-up or up-to-date. I am a simpler creature, tied to more primitive patterns and cycles. I need to think something lasts forever, and it might as well be that state of being that is a game; it might as well be that, in a green field, in the sun. Giamatti, 1998.
Love of a dog saved, my life, vogue
Cox swings a bat, stretches his long arms, bends his back, the resume review rookie from Pawtucket who broke in two weeks earlier with a record six straight hits, the kid drafted ahead of Fred Lynn, rangy, smooth, cool. The count runs two and two, briles is cagey, nothing too good, and Cox swings, the ball beginning toward the mound and then, in a jaunty, wayward dance, skipping past Briles, feinting to the right, skimming the last of the grass, finding the dirt, moving. The aisles are jammed, the place is on its feet, the wrappers, the programs, the coke cups and peanut shells, the doctrines of an afternoon; the anxieties, the things that have to be done tomorrow, the regrets about yesterday, the accumulation of a summer: all. Rice whom Aaron had said was the only one he'd seen with the ability to break his records. Rice the best clutch hitter on the club, with the best slugging percentage in the league. Rice, so quick and strong he once checked his swing halfway through and snapped the bat in two. Rice the hammer of God sent to scourge the yankees, the sound was overwhelming, fathers pounded their sons on the back, cars pulled off the road, households froze, new England exulted in its blessedness, and roared its thanks for all good things, for Rice and. Briles threw, rice swung, and it was over. One pitch, a fly to center, and it stopped.
Now comes a pinch hitter, bernie carbo, onetime rookie of the year, erratic, quick, a shade too handsome, so laid-back he is always, in his soul, stretched out in the tall grass, one arm under his head, watching the clouds and laughing; now he looks. New England is on its feet, roaring. The summer will not pass. Roaring, they recall the evening, late and cold, in 1975, the sixth game of the world Series, perhaps the greatest baseball game played in the last fifty years, when Carbo, loose and easy, had uncoiled to tie the game that Fisk would win. It is 8-7, one out, and school will never start, rain will never come, sun will warm the back of your neck forever. Now bailey, picked up from the national league recently, big arms, heavy gut, experienced, new to the league and the club; he fouls off two and then, checking, tentative, a big man off balance, he pops a soft liner to the first baseman. It is suddenly darker and later, and the announcer doing the game coast to coast, a new Yorker who works for a new York television station, sounds relieved. His little world, well-lit, hot-combed, split-second-timed, had no capacity to absorb japan this much gritty, grainy, contrary reality.
old poet called Mutability does not so quickly come. But out here, on Sunday, october 2, where it rains all day, dame mutability never loses. She was in the crowd at Fenway yesterday, a gray day full of bluster and contradiction, when the red Sox came up in the last of the ninth trailing Baltimore 8-5, while the yankees, rain-delayed against Detroit, only needing to win one or have boston. Boston had won two, the yankees had lost two, and suddenly it seemed as if the whole season might go to the last day, or beyond, except here was Boston losing 8-5, while new York sat in its family room and put its feet. Lynn, both ankles hurting now as they had in July, hits a single down the right-field line. It is on its feet. Hobson, third baseman, former bear Bryant quarterback, strong, quiet, over 100 rbis, goes for three breaking balls and is out. The goddess smiles and encourages her agent, a canny journeyman named Nelson Briles.
Today, october 2, a sunday of rain and broken branches and leaf-clogged drains and slick streets, it stopped, and summer was gone. Somehow, the summer seemed to slip by faster this from time. Maybe it wasn't this summer, but all the summers that, in this my fortieth summer, slipped by so fast. There comes a time when every summer will have something of autumn about. Whatever the reason, it seemed to me that I was investing more and more in baseball, making the game do more of the work that keeps time fat and slow and lazy. I was counting on the game's deep patterns, three strikes, three outs, three times three innings, and its deepest impulse, to go out and back, to leave and to return home, to set the order of the day and to organize the daylight. I wrote a few things this last summer, this summer that did not last, nothing grand but some things, and yet that work was just camouflage.
Zeppelin rocks seattle's outdoor Green, lake aqua
From a great and Glorious Game: Baseball Writings. Bartlett giamatti. Bartlett giamatti, et al "The Green fields of the mind ". It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone. You count on it, rely on it to buffer the passage of time, to keep the memory of sunshine short and high skies alive, and then just when the days are all twilight, when you need it most, it stops.