Tomorrow Monday - We hold class & A Good Report

We shall hold class tomorrow. I am requesting everyone to bring our STRESS-BOOK.


Here is another report by Sarah.

My almost rebellious desire to read was holding me hostage as I browsed the website www.hup.harvard.com. I scanned the too-short (no irony intended) list of books available to readers; picking, analysing, tasting each title like a predator on it's nightly prowl choosing its next oblivious victim. There was one topic that instinctively captivated my attention: Nature-- my one true passion. Arching my back, I hunched forward in my chair and without waiting to settle my quickened breaths, clicked as fast as my fingers would allow me to get to the webpage. My excitement was ludicrously alleviated and it took my mother five loud screams to tear me away momentarily from my hypnotic trance and get an explanation for why I was jumping about in my seat like I was having some sort of seizure.

But as quickly as my ardour had climaxed, it melted away when I noticed the prices next to the books. They had to be bought. How radically disappointing. With a childish frown plastered across my face, I began looking at each title in the hope of atleast getting a vague sense of what each book contained. And the way they teased me! The Restless Plant, The Urban Whale, Aglow in the Dark, Nature Wars...I was barely able to swallow the urge to devour them whole.

My mind was swept into a whirl-wind of images I had collected over the years, snapshots of countess documentaries, scenes from a miscellany of animal shows and videos, anything and everything that involved our beautiful Earth. I squinted to scrutinize the front-cover of the books as closely as I could, subsequently opening up a floodgate of remembered images-- the endless life-and-death struggle between a ravenous salt-water crocodile and a hapless, kicking, groaning wildebeast as it tried to escape the ferocious grip of it's killer's razor-lined jaws; the aerial, territorial combat between two harpy eagles as they dive headlong and twirling into the canopy below with talons locked in a deadly duel.

I also read up on American Literature 1700 to 1865, as assigned.