The EE Sampler - Jefferson County Public Schools

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The Change of “My Roots” I am this landscape, the land where you live, soil and dirt. I’m hill and river; bearer of plant roots, shelter of life. I want you to know, my great tale of change, transformation. How I became as, the home that you know, your America. Hundreds of years back, I gained new species, known well to you. I am saying gain, because they weren’t here, not to be seen. They were brought by boats, those that brought white men, Europeans. These people settled, and so did their beasts, both large and small. The settlers didn’t know, nor understand me, and they struggled. So they molded me, changed my makeup, I was altered. They brought their livestock, their beasts of burden, to graze my grass. Brought were cows and pigs, the horses and sheep, goats and chickens. Domestic species, these I’m speaking of, so new and strange. Also brought were gardens, their fruits and flowers, and many foods. I had no peaches, growing in Georgia, no wild type trees. I had no oranges, no orchards of orange, no Florida’s best. No dandelions: that small yellow weed, bright in summer. Wheat fields filled me up; rice embedded me, from north to south. They brought insects here, invading creatures, making me home. The fruits could flourish, thanks to honeybees, pollinators. The boats brought soil, European dirt, to mix with me. The newest creature, slimy writhing thing, was the earthworm. These worms were the worst; they changed my soil, my forest land. They eat my foliage, making my trees starve, my shrubs shrivel. Like a brute sculptor, pressing his thumbs in, digging deeper. He pressed my cheeks, my mountain shoulders, and my cave feet. Cutting species out, from the swampy vines, of my long hair, I changed forever; my billion-year self, became Europe! 33
Diana Neamtu The Oak Tree A tall oak tree outside the door, Watches stoically as students pass, No one stops to admire it anymore, They run to work, or friends or class. It stands silently and respires Purifying the air we need. Until the day when it expires, It does this constant, altruistic deed. But the Earth itself is slowly heating, As burned fossil fuels destroy its shell. A clear, clean future now seems fleeting, This pollution cannot be easy to dispel. Lakes and rivers are damaged, too. Filled to capacity with infiltrates, This natural abuse should be taboo, Who knows what our habit creates? Time passes and things change, No one cares for nature, just as before, The concrete world feels strange, The tall oak tree is outside no more. Greta Landenwich Beargrass Creek What a strange new landscape. Floating bottles congregate in spiraling islands, perhaps plotting their next assault against the already ravaged land. What a strange new landscape. Vehicles, magnets, batteries, remnants of urban warfare, bury themselves deep in her muddy bosom. Clothing and shredded plastic bags drip from the spindly fingers of trees forming stalagmites in the reflection of the murky water. Few creatures swim, or breathe, or play, except leeches, hunting and left hungry. Ghostly clouds of sediment float, attempting to escape, but redeposit, defeated, on Beargrass' bed. What a strange new landscape. The stench rises, thick and choking. 34
Page 1 and 2: The EE Sampler Selections from the
Page 3 and 4: Introduction This environmental sam
Page 5 and 6: The EE Sampler Selections from the
Page 7 and 8: Cleaning Beargrass Creek Kristen Ba
Page 9 and 10: the many shopping carts. We piled a
Page 11 and 12: A Beargrass Creek Experience By: Du
Page 13 and 14: Patti Reitz 13 Nov 2007 Second Hand
Page 15 and 16: Do you hear the noise? By Vanessa H
Page 17 and 18: Liz Gramiak to as “fussy” and o
Page 19 and 20: Brian Durham Similarly, riding the
Page 21 and 22: Rain Gardens: What, Why, and How? K
Page 23: Disposal of Animal Waste Sarah Payn
Page 27 and 28: David Soleimani-Meigooni Mining Pro
Page 29 and 30: Farming v. Fishing? Is One Industry
Page 31 and 32: Literary Writing: Short Stories, Mo
Page 33 and 34: Cory Child Urban Water “As you ca
Page 35 and 36: The Lights come up with Evan and Ja
Page 37: Literary Writing: Poetry Poetry is
Page 41: Recycle - Amy Kuhn Empty, Sort, Sta

The EE Sampler - Jefferson County Public Schools

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