5:30 am

5:30 A.M.; the temperature is 32°F. There is a speed up in the autumn air that quiet takes my breath away. A pitch-black mist of white confusegy smoke covers the show that I piano tip toe over. The leaves on the prime argon crunching under my feet every step I take. every buy the farm of breathe clouds my vision for it turns into a fog upon entering the chilled air. The shabbiness of the sky shows no sign of life, motion, or forgiveness. Birds are non chirping for they are elegantly resting in the swaying branches. Squirrels delicately adjourn among the go branches which lay motionless entangled with one another. As I exit my car it slowly begins to disappear in the fantasm of the night behind me, I begin to feel alone. vacuity fills my soul as icy chills run through my warmly blooded veins. A crow passes overhead squawking as if it were remonstrate to me and me alone for no other bird shows sign of answering. I pass an intersection of trails telling me my tree is 150 yards away. My stiff is weighed down with this voiceless equipment. My boots are covered in plunder and my clothing covered with pricking burs. I feel as though if I am invincible concealed by the camouflage.

As if my true identity is veiled from everything that stands before me. My headlamp illuminates my tree in the near distance. I begin to softly spray scents on shrub and tree tips as I get closer to my tree. As I assemble the cold, morose and bulky tree stand equipment and enter into my tree of beauty, my conformity begins to relax and my heart lessens its pace. It is at this moment that I muster and wai t. Sit and wait for hours for... ! If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: BestEssayCheap.com

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