Environmental Concern- Global Warming

What is global warming?

Global warming is a worldwide problem we are now staring in the face. Human beings have caused this by creating carbon dioxide and greenhouse gases, which builds up our atmosphere, until only the Sun’s powerful rays will penetrate it. Unfortunately, our atmosphere is like Earth’s insulation, which means it will prevent the heat escaping into space. Over centuries, this heat will build up, slowly torturing vegetation, animals and human beings. The worst part is, it’s already underway.

Firstly, what are the causes of global warming? Our atmosphere is a gargantuan sphere made up of gases, blanketing Earth. Without it, the Sun would roast us by day, and we would be frozen solid by night. But by building up our atmosphere, mainly with carbon dioxide and Greenhouse gases, we are damaging our planet. Basically, it’s like adding more and more insulation to your home, meanwhile increasing the heat inside. We produce carbon dioxide by petrol fumes from vehicles, fires, smoking, and even breathing. We breathe in oxygen, and breathe out carbon dioxide. However, trees are the opposite, so felling trees is a big problem too. Petrol fumes from vehicles is mainly our biggest problem. People are driving to local places that would have only taken five more minutes to bike to. This is not good for our environment!

Subsequently, what are the consequences of global warming? For a start, the Polar Caps, the South and North Poles, and Antarctica will melt. Cute penguins and polar bears will be homeless and eventually will die out. Also, with all that melted water, the sea level will rise enough to at least drown islands and coastal towns. The weather will change dramatically. Whether it is frequent thunderstorms or terrible droughts, crops will not survive. Unless we find some sort of food source able to survive global warming, most animals (including human beings) will starve to death. Although this is a terribly slow process, taking many thousands of years, the human race will die out eventually, which will be an improvement in some ways and a catastrophe in others. Some animals will survive. Earth will not be devoid of life, because some life will have adapted and evolved to suit the environment.

Thirdly, what can we do to help prevent global warming? One of the main, and probably most effective, things we can do is not produce much more gases harmful to the environment. It’s best if the atmosphere does not get any thicker than it already is. Simple yet effective things anyone can do is bike or walk instead of drive. Don’t cut down any more forests than we really need. Riding on buses reduces the amount of petrol fumes released into the atmosphere. If twelve people each took a car that would be twelve lots of fumes. However, if they went in groups of four only three lots of fumes would be produced. If everyone acted, it would be simple things like that that made all the difference.

       In conclusion global warming is a worldwide problem. Not fiction, it’s reality. Some people will say, “Global warming is a myth. Don’t be concerned about it.” This is not true! We can help prevent the horrible consequences if we do simple things. Now that you know what global warming is, what the causes and effects are, and what you can do to help, PLEASE cooperate! A little consideration for the environment can go a long way!   

By Amy

How the Looking-Glass Obtained its Reflection

Once upon a time there was a circular, looking-glass with a rim of the most beautiful polished oak. He longed for a reflection of his own, as he was forever forced to watch as many gorgeous animals preened themselves while staring into the crystal-clear lake, with their reflections copying their every move. Then they would always peer into the looking-glass and say, “What a pity this looking-glass does not show our reflections in it. One should think a simple piece of glass would reflect our shiny feathers and glossy fur coats. A pity, that wonderful oak rim would suit us.” And, shaking their heads with false empathy, they would prance away, laughing and quickly forgetting the lonely looking-glass. So the looking-glass envied the lake, and often was forced to bathe in self-pity for the taunts he was compelled to endure.

One day a stranger wandered by. He was tall, and thin, with strange dark skin that hung loosely on his body, and a mass of dark fur on his head. He looked strangely melancholy, and approached the looking-glass with a walk like a zombie. He told the looking-glass of a faraway land, full of shiny metals that glint in the sun. He told him of his nephew, who shaped these metals into plates, machines, and crafts of any kind. When the looking-glass mentioned his problem, the stranger told him of a journey that was long, dangerous, and terrifying. Yet if the looking-glass succeeded, he would be able to show all the other animals their reflections. The stranger gave him detailed instructions, and said farewell. Then he disappeared in an explosion of gold light.

The looking-glass decided that the only way forwards was on. So he hiked to a valley in which elves gladly gave him their hospitality in their protected realm. Then he journeyed to a misty mountain range, called the Murky Mountains, where rock-giants hurled massive boulders at each other in the night, and goblins roamed the undergrounds. Eventually he came to a trapdoor almost concealed in amongst the pebbles and stones on the path. With much straining, he managed to turn the ring and entered the ancient, long-abandoned dwarfish Musty Mines. Inside were horrors you and I could never hope to imagine. Fiery ogres roamed the corridors of stone, and spirits and ghosts of the dwarves who once mined their many jewels and precious stones haunted every room. A particularly fierce breed of goblins killed and ate anything they found. Somehow, the looking-glass managed to avoid contact with most of the monsters in the mines. Suddenly, right in front of him, he saw a glimmering block of silver. It was large, just the right size for what the looking-glass needed it for. He could barely lift it, but somehow he managed to carry it all the way to the exit.

Unfortunately, he emerged in total darkness.  The looking-glass had long since learned it was unwise to be out in the middle of the night, and he would have to dodge goblins and rock giants to find shelter. A thunderclap roared in the distance, and heavy rain descended onto the poor looking-glass. What a thing to happen right at this moment! Suddenly, an especially enormous rock giant picked up the boulder that he was walking on and hurled him into the night sky. What bad luck!

He was now stranded in a valley far from the forges were he would get his block of silver smelted. It was on the other side of the Murky Mountains, and there was no way he could ever get both himself and his silver back over them. Then he remembered the parting words of the depressed-looking stranger. “Remember, all riches found in those mines are enchanted, and can only be shaped three times, in any heat at all, depending on what you need and what you have. My nephew, however, is the only one who has the skill for what you need.” Suddenly, his words made sense! The looking-glass made a campfire, and heated the silver in the flickering flames. His lack of hands made it difficult, but he managed to shape it into a live bird. The bird chirped, and the looking-glass managed to get onto his back. Then off they flew! They made it to the forges when the sky glowed grey with pre-dawn light.

Inside a hunched, grey-bearded man so withered and wrinkled he might disintegrate at the slightest touch. Although in many ways the looking-glass seemed stronger than the man, he radiated an aura of intelligence and wisdom. The looking-glass managed to stutter out his problem and request, and the old man cracked a smile. ‘Of course I will help you. You have had to endure much to reach me. It is the least I can do.” So at last, the poor looking-glass’ wish had been granted! He left the forges at sundown, with a stylish silver plate behind his glass. As the silver was enchanted, any being that looked into the looking-glass saw themselves beaming back at them. Never again was he tortured past endurance, and everyone enjoyed his presence.

However, looking-glasses are not manufactured this way anymore. The enchanted silver in the Musty Mines has been depleted to non-existence, and eventually forgotten. But the looking-glass lived a long and happy life, to the amazing age of one hundred and eighty-seven. And to this day, every looking-glass and mirror has adored their gift of reflecting.

Camp Memoir- Abseiling

My grip on the rope tightens until my knuckles turn white. It doesn’t seem like the strongest rope, but I weave my trust into it. T Taking minute steps backwards, I lean back, expecting someone who isn’t there to catch me. Millimetre by millimetre, I let more rope out into the metal ring. Gradually I descend, instinctively leaning forwards. “Lean back, that’s it. Lean back,” murmurs the soothing American accent in a encouraging tone. Pixies dance a fierce jig in my stomach. I haven’t felt this nervous for years. But my courage kicks in as soon as the vertical artificial grass runs out. A tsunami of exhilaration floods my body. “Hey. Did you know you can jump?” comes a voice from above.

My worn-out sneakers push off from the metallic grey cliff, and I soar like the Haast’s Eagle. I imagine gliding effortlessly over the gargantuan blue lake, over the native bush, hunting prey, and admiring the scenery that future generations will never witness. I’m yanked out of my daydream as my feet crunch heavily onto the moss-covered stone. Running my fingers over the grooves, suddenly I’m in medieval times, scaling the castle wall. Leaping again, hearing calming encouragement, ripples on the lake, insects chirping and birds singing. The scents of bush and dirt permeate my nostrils, along with freshwater and foreign aromas carried on the breezes I can’t identify. I feed the ring more rope, this time lots all at once, so I seem to fall for a second, before the rope catches me in its thin, rough arms.

At this moment I’m confident I can do anything. I’m mentally flying over the breathtaking scenery, tasting the fresh air, the crisp breezes, the wilderness. Full of energy, I feel the adrenaline pumping through my body.

“Are you sure you’re not a monkey?” a parent inquires. I bounce cheerfully, backing into a saturated, leafy plant. Wishing I could have taken longer, my feet touch down on horizontal earth. The parent helper disentangles the rope from the heavy ring, and I embark on the steep excursion through the bush. Trudging along the muddy, slippery track back to the hut, I long to do it again.

The Nightmare

Sleep engulfs me.

I’m standing in an isolated clearing, the blood moon illuminating the red, wet ground. Men in dark suits surround me. Murder is etched into their black eyes, tunnels to oblivion. Maniacal laughter echoes around the trees. I’m breathing terror. I hear a twig snap behind me, and I spin, lashing out. He crumples like a marionette with his strings cut. The battle rages on.

My arm brakes for no reason. I twist my ankle and tears form an opaque curtain over my eyes. I blink like the world depends on it. Theoretically, it does. Pain is everything. Blood is everywhere. Defeated opponents carpet the ground. Some unconscious, some crippled, some severely wounded. Most are ceaselessly attacking me. I've never felt more fear.

Leaves rustle, bushes quiver. Assassins? Snipers? My mind is freeze-dried from panic, and it’s going overdrive. They emerge. All my friends and family, everyone I have ever or will ever care about, gaping at the fight. They are in advantageous positions, but they are paralysed with terror, compelled to watch me receive my unfortunate fate.

I shove my current opponent, and he stumbles, cracking his skull on a log. The moment his heart stops, his body ruptures, blood artfully tie dyeing his elegant tuxedo. His body disintegrates and floats on the breeze, ashes hitchhiking on the wind. I can only stare. I don’t notice the man behind me, manufactured from shadows. I don’t notice the knife glint as it bathes in the moonlight. But I do notice the tip of the blade protruding from my gut. The men disappear, their task completed. I seize the hilt and yank it out. I admire the elaborate carvings adorning the silver blade made from moonbeams. Mist obscures my vision.

I wake up. I've been sobbing into my pillow, and my duvet is tangled around my limbs from thrashing around. Thank goodness it was only a nightmare. My hand is clenched around something cold as death. I bring it out, through the jungle of bedclothes, and fling it away from me in terror.

It’s the knife from my dream.

Learning Reflections- term 2 week 1

Week 1

Term 1 couldn't possibly go so fast. There's going to be so many exiting things this term. Science Fair, for one. My topic is 'Which fizzy drink, out of Sprite, Coke, or Fanta, does the most damage to your teeth?'

For Extension Writing, we have to write a 500 word story. I have a horror story based on a thought blossomed from a friend's nightmare. It may be a bit too gruesome and violent, and it is very creepy. Our Extension Writing teacher, Mrs Shaw, found some tips online for writing, from a good author. I really liked his metaphor; 'A piece of writing is like a rose bush- it grows healthier after you prune the unnecessary parts.' I think that's very clever.

This term, we have a program where we can write up our own timetables for the day. I think this will benefit our learning a lot. If I had my way, I would do silent reading and writing all day.

For maths, we are working on decimals and fractions. Lately I have done converting fractions into recurring decimals. Some decimals take ages to recur, and some only have one digit. For example, one third is 0.33333 and so on, and one seventeenth is 0.0588235294117647 repeated forever.