Read the following excerpt from the article "Vision, Voice and the Power of Creation: An Author Speaks Out," by T. A. Barron, an
d answer the question that follows: Another way to tap the power of imagination is through place. My own background as a writer is rooted in nature, having grown up reading Henry David Thoreau, Rachel Carson, and John Muir long before I ever dipped into Madeleine L'Engle, Lloyd Alexander, Ursula Le Guin, E. B. White, or J.R.R. Tolkien. My early writings were really nature journals; at nine, I wrote a complete biography—of a tree. (It was a once-majestic chestnut tree not far from my home.) So it should come as no surprise that I view place as much more than just a setting for a story. It is, in truth, another form of character, no less alive and complex, mysterious and contradictory, than the richest character in human form. The author writes that he "wrote a complete biography—of a tree." What message is implied about the tree with this statement? The author couldn't think of any other subject for a biography. The author didn't think a partial biography was enough. The author didn't want to speak for the tree. The author believed the tree had a life story, like a person.
D: <span>The author believed the tree had a life story, like a person.
The author spends the first bit of the paragraph discussing how important "place" or, setting, is to make a story enjoyable. Then he describes his biography of the tree. It is clear that he considers the tree to have a character and story of its own when he says "</span><span>It is, in truth, another form of character".</span>
The Dog ran from the tree to the swing set is the answer. because it moves across the same plane and doesn't turn or reflect across any axis' and it doesn't shrink or grow. Hope it helped!
