The Colorado River in Yuma, Arizona, is my fun away from home. Boating, playing on the sand bar, and being in a stress-free environment are my favorite parts about the Colorado River. All the smells, feelings, and thoughts that happen on the river seem to stay there.

I love boating on the Colorado river. Not only is it fun, it can be relaxing or thrilling. My boat was custom-made by Ultra Boating, as were most of the boats on the river. After we launch our boat we go off and look for a sand bar to hang out on, or go up river so we can kneeboard and go tubing. Sometimes we race with our friends, but only when there are not too many people around. Other times we relax and let our boat float while we get into the water to swim. The first jump into the cold water is very thrilling and sends goose bumps down my whole body.

When we finally anchor at a sand bar, our coolers, chairs, and canopy come off our boat and are placed on the sand. I take a deep breath and smell the fresh air, sand and water as the wind blows through my hair. When we are anchored on a sand bar, there is so much to do. We bury each other, make sand castles, play volleyball and lay out in the sand trying not to get it everywhere! It's a different world for me when I'm on the river.

All of the stresses of being in the city or even a small town evaporate when my family and I go to Yuma. The feeling of the sand in between my fingers and toes helps me relax. Lying on the hot sand in the sun makes jumping into the river's cold water even more fun. When we are on the river, there aren't any obligations or schedules we need to follow. We don't need to be doing much to be happy, because it's just nice to get away from our regular life. Being on the Colorado River is almost like having a new, different life.

The sound of a fly buzzing in circles is infuriating. Its buzz is at just the right volume to tork me off. Each fly has to buzz just out of the range of my insanely-swinging windmill-like arms. My fist clenches and my eye twitches as I desperately try to concentrate. All this effort is in vain. I leave the room; at least I can hit my brother. Another victory for the fly. Bad idea. The asylum's lights will be a lot worse. I quickly finish my shopping and thank the world that the sun is still shining.

Naturally, I hate lawnmowers for the exercise, the smell, and the general mess they make, but worst of all is the awful noise. That nasal chainsaw noise is intolerable. While I am working in class, usually on a test, that man has to get on his stupid riding lawnmower and grind up the grass. Chugging and grinding, the lawnmower leaves me no choice but to add to the bite marks on my pencil. Glaring down at my paper with more intensity then ever, I grind my lead harder to help myself concentrate. It keeps droning on.

I understand the importance of sirens, but why do they have to be so loud? While I am sitting in my car deftly tuning out the rap music pouring out of the car next to me, the flashy speeding ambulance followed by an understated black police car comes speeding through the intersection. The racket is unbearable. The sound rings through my ears and explodes into dozens of painful fireworks in my head. I look over to see the mom next to me turning to roll her eyes at the wailing kid in the backseat; I feel the same as the kid. Later that night while I am about to fall asleep, the noise breaks through the almost-silent night to my window, as if sent there by my own stressed nerves.

The main reason that these noises bother me is because there is no way to ignore them. When a fly is buzzing there is no possible way to ignore it other than putting my hands over my ears and screaming. The florescent light is incessant and eye-twitchingly annoying. Lawnmower noise is also impossible to tune out, while the noise of a siren is so loud and disruptive that when it suddenly pops out, it makes all thought impossible. I prefer silence to almost any other sound.