Vancouver: A Narrative Analysis

Montreal, a city in Quebec. A city that is the most populated city in the province and is has a multi-ethnic society. Montreal who is known for the Grand Prix races and Expo 67. Montreal is the place where I was born and is my home. It is the place where I was raised and I am still growing up in this city and studying here in order to achieve the future i wish for. The city in a way has made a place for itself in my heart. The people and the culture differences has allowed me to experience the diverse cultures, but I do still wish to travel the world to experience the cultures at origin. Every city has their flaws just like Montreal. Not everyone city is perfect, they may claim to be perfect but in truth they really are not. What would be

Softly shuddering, the cliff trembles in terror of the thunder overhead, ocean water gushing in great geysers, azure foam frothing like the mouth of a rabid dog, eating at the base of the cliff. Lashing tendrils of smoke and ash, still smelling of burnt flesh began darting through the air. Black suffocating smoke from an old fire; little devils dancing in the breeze, the noxious fumes smothering all who stood in its presence. Thunder screamed overhead, small explosions echoing off of the cliff, the precipice teetering and swaying like a drunkard. A shock of light colliding with a tree on the edge of the forest, heartlessly spewing sparks; electric whips searching for new victims. The opaque bush igniting in flame, revealing the violet eyes

The journey towards the mountain follows one of three secluded roads. Shrouded by a city of trees, glimpses of the prestigious peak are rare and at points it feels as if you are in a world apart from our own. As you get closer the trees change from resembling street lamps to mirroring skyscrapers. But the true majesty of the area cannot be experienced from a vehicle. When you leave your transportation you are immediately assaulted by the fresh air, clean and crisp. It instantly makes you forget what city air is like. Staring out into the untrimmed wilds, the sounds of nature slowly fill your ears and replace the song

Two years ago, I transitioned from an Alberta lifestyle to a British Columbian one. There was an immediate, and definite, culture shock. After having grown up in a small Albertan town, I was thrown into a different social setting and school curriculum in the midst of the 2014 teachers strike. Due to the lack of professional support offered to students during this time, I was left to navigate the foreign atmosphere myself. This was particularly difficult as, prior to moving, there were very few instances requiring a need for me to assert myself as an individual. Without a doubt, situating myself in the social structure was a gruelling task. However, it was through the process of establishing new interpersonal connections that I honed my adaptability

I personally live within the Church and Wesley district boundaries and I am biased when I say that it is one of my favorite areas within Toronto. I always feel safe while walking home no matter how late. And the atmosphere there is a constant stream of events happening each day of the week always surprises me. My field research for this essay included me analyzing the neighborhood directly. I spent a full 24 hours at the main intersection of Church and Wellesley: My results found that 12:00 am to 5:00 am was the most inactive. As the morning light came in fewer people emerged onto the streets this included buses transporting groceries and the garbage men. Peak time to be in the neighborhood was 8-10:00am and 6-9:00pm. I found that during these

British Columbia, Canada — is where the small family of three would be spending their two week vacation. The trip had not been planned too thoroughly, and in fact the location was picked strictly because Charlie had decided to throw a dart into the map. It was easier than trying to pick a specific place and Charlie didn't particularly care where he ended up, so long as he was with his family. After everything that had happened in the past year, Charlie felt that he, Sloan and their son deserved time away from the chaos in Boston. It would be great to do something as a family, and Canada would be the perfect place to relax.

The path turns to rocks, all around trees tower over me growing from rocks and sand, no black dirt like here in Iowa. We continue to follow the twisting path through twisting pine trees until we reach the tree line. On top of Flattop Mountain I can see for miles, The surrounding mountains are beautiful. But we’re not done yet, we stay on the path carefully avoiding the delicate flowers and mosses. The air is thin up here it is getting harder to breathe. We’ve reached the base of hallets peak. I stare up at that almost vertical wall of boulders in front of me. On all fours, I

Turning off my iPod, I hiked a few more miles up the mountain, the echo of my racing heartbeat pulsing in my ears. Feeling my sweat, mingled with the drizzling rain, trickle down my neck, I let out a deep breath and looked down the edge at the lush greenery. Kicking a tiny rock, I watched it fly off the edge until it got lost somewhere among the warring bushes.

As the sun rose over the horizon it awoke the jungle slowly and efficiently. Soon I could hear the morning birds chirp with all their heart and that triggered joy and excitement in my soul. A morning breeze toured the jungle making the flowers and leaves tango with rhythm and finesse as though they were experts. The lush evergreen trees stood so firm as if the roots were clinging for their very life, in the distance there was a Crystal River and a waterfall as its source. I could hear the rampaging rapids after the dip of the waterfall which slowly converted into a swift river forcefully turning at every bank.

Come mid-October, the hiking trails were almost barren during the week. Tourists were gone, school was in session, and the risk of a sudden bit of chill weather was enough to keep most people off the paths. Today though, it was warm, just a touch below seventy out with barely a breeze. The path that Amy and Catherine took wound through open field and heavy forest, leading to an old water tower over roots, rocks, and even steep stone stairs in some places.

It’s that time of year again when everyone around you but you, seems to be falling in love. No matter where you go, or what you do, love can be seen everywhere. However, the word “love” has several meanings and it also relates to aspects of gender, sex and culture. Having witnessed and analyzed a particular public location, hoping to identify practices around sexuality, love, or romance in Vancouver today, it is apparent that love, sexuality, and gender in Vancouver is changing, in a positive way in my opinion. Words I would use to describe Vancouver today is open-minded, international, refreshing, favorable and inclusive. After taking extensive notes during my observations on love, the words listed above are examples of how I personally perceive Vancouver today.

Yaletown is a district in Vancouver’s downtown core and its services and utilities fall under the jurisdiction of the municipal government of the city of Vancouver. The convenient layout and the usability of public space, that has made Yaletown a safe and coveted place to live, has been part of the city of Vancouver’s ongoing vision. Yaletown is equipped with the supreme services and utilities that are offered by the government of Vancouver. It is well organized and well thought out. Here is a brief look at some of the roles and responsibilities of Vancouver’s municipal government and what you can expect from each.

I gazed up at the mountain now drenched in light red and squinted, trying to keep my eyes open, as the bright sharp light burnt into my eyes. Struggling to keep my eyes open, I finally closed them unable to the pain any longer; I wiped my watery eyes and thought where Samneric’s fire was? There was a rumble inside me, and I looked hopefully at the jungle wondering if I could find Samneric’s fire as well as something to eat. In the morning light the jungle seemed like an old and tattered rug chewed to bits by moths, yet despite this the jungle and the whole island was beautiful shining in the sun’s warmth. I kept on walking as the jungle beckoned me calling me with its beauty. As I passed between the trees, the canopy overhead plunged me into velvet darkness. The only source of light was from the small gaps in the shell of overlapping leaves, where the sun glistened through. Moss and lichen covered the ground in abundance, thriving in this humid atmosphere, and feeding on the eerie green light that managed to penetrate through the ceiling of emerald leaves. The strange green shade and the various knotted pillars made it impossible to see for great distances or to walk about freely.

Yet were being held down, giving a silent rhapsody of joy and grieving. Along the way fallen timber accompanied thickets of weeds. A lazy mist hazed my vision, making the horizon seem like one from a story book. The area was imperturbable, as if it was keeping a secret hidden deep within itself.

Alexis, now hyperventilating, paces around in circles with her hands on her forehead. She then calms herself down and follows the rhythmic sound of a smooth waterfall. On the way there she observes majestic birds flying towards the towering trees. In the short time period Alexis walks, she sees every single kind of exotic flower. She feels the warm sun rays shining down her back as she sprints towards the waterfall. She expects mermaids to pop out of the water as she rests her bare feet in the water.  She enjoys the giant pool filled with ice cold water as that is the only things she's familiar with. While washing her face and hair, out of the corner of her eyes, she sees a trail. As she hikes up the trail she notices that it is man-made. Alexis continues following path, she listens to the sounds of footprints and heavy breathy. She has the impression that someone is watching her. Out of nature, she sprints. She has an immense burst of strange energy, and not the good kind, a negative spirit.