
Why Do Leaves Change Color? So Many Colors. Why are the leaves on trees different colors? What makes them change color? Making Food. Leaves use sunlight, water, and air to make food for the tree. This way of making food is called photosynthesis. A chemical that helps leaves make food also makes them green.Photosynthesis is important to animals as well as plants. Some animals eat plants. Other animals eat those animals. Without photosynthesis, neither kind of animal would have food. Summer. Summer is playtime. For the leaves of many trees, however, it's work, work, work! The Sun is shining. The leaves are making food for the trees. The trees store any extra food deep inside. The stored food will help them get through winter. Leaves are green in summer because they are making food. Leaves also have orange, yellow, or brown colors inside them. During summer, those other colors are hidden by the green color. Fall. Many places get colder in fall. The days get shorter, and the nights get longer. Trees get less sunlight, so photosynthesis slows down.Over time, leaves stop making the green chemical, so they lose their green color. When that happens, the hidden orange, yellow, and brown colors start to show. Leaves also start making a red color at this time. Once it gets cold enough to freeze at night, the trees drop their leaves. They do this to keep themselves safe. If the leaves freeze while still on the trees, the trees can be hurt. Winter. Trees that drop their leaves are bare in winter. They use the stored food to get through the cold days and colder nights. Spring. Spring comes before long. Ice and snow melt, and the rains come. The Sun shines, and tiny leaves grow from branches. Once again, the leaves use sunlight, water, and air to make food. The cycle begins again.
Quiz by Kaytee
Customize this quiz to suit your class
Instantly translate to 100+ languages
Tag the questions with any skills you have. Your dashboard will track each student's mastery of each skill.
Give this quiz to my class
âOn this night, we share a roof protecting us from fleets of inequity. Our unification promises a better tomorrow. Those larger than myself, sitting on their marble thrones, sipping blood from cups composed of human skin and singing songs of so-called virtue, grow weaker each moment. Their caravans are revolting. There is hope yet. There is progress! Though tonight may mark a countdown, it is still a celebration. Look at all we have done, not just for Trials but for Palatium Infra as a whole. In four years, when Iâm no longer Sovereignty, the Spoiled Purity and his people will continue to strive. So drink! Smoke! Crush up those exotic plants and snort them! We will not falter, weaken, or wane. Our influence is expanding, and somebody new opens their eyes every day. Even the Silbys of Aculeus have reached alarming potentials despite their embittered minds. So long as you relish in tonight, dance, and pray to your âdeadâ Gods, our revolution shall rise beyond the bounds of class, and when Iâm only a commoner, we shall rise again beyond our brainwashed adversaries! Cheers, my people. Cheers!â Followers raised their cups. Some clinked theirs together. Others stood still and screamed breathlessly in agreement. I smiled with courtesy, then stepped off my platform. My voice still rang across the cellar. Speeches before were grander. Those displays were supposed to be emptying, and yet this one left me bloated, swollen tight. I watched as they popped the corks of their bottles and chanted in the name of Purity. Maybe the quality of my words wasnât what mattered to them anyway, so long as I screamed loud enough. Thereâs no merit in attacking your people, a voice corrected me. âThatâs right,â I said aloud. âKnox, my-my Sovereign!â squealed a nearby devotee, jittering as he stuffed his face with catered pastries. He was one Iâd never seen before or had failed to remember. âLook what Iâve found! Itâs wine, and not the shoddy Infran kind, either. Earth-made with good fruit! I donât know how anyone managed to get their hands on this. Maybe some space travel mischief.â He giggled and held up a small glass bottle. âHow neat.â âI want you to have it, Sir.â I nodded my head. âYes, of course. Thank you.â Backing off into the midst of rowdy disciples, I clutched the bottle. What a waste of grapes. It could have been jam instead. Earthly food had a superior taste, ripe with delicate intricacies and nostalgia, but Palatium Infra had mastered the art of alcohol. Why waste your time with a drunkenness so sad and sickening? The booze of trash. Not many more followers approached me. The barren peroration must have upset them. My hands itched to submerge into my suit pockets, and my legs stood suddenly numb, wobbling. Four more years until Iâm nothing. But tonight, you are nothing. âShut up,â I told myself. Tightly packed together in the corner of the dwelling sat the Sibyls. A mound of writhing fabric and tones of skin made up their unified silhouette. I snapped the strap of the nearest gown, balancing on my hands and knees, waving the bottle before them. In their almost rodent nature, narrow noses prodded my way. Their dresses wrinkled and fell to their ankles. Knees dropped, and eyes widened. Many grumbled at me like hungry she-beasts. Those newer ones with faded curtains for hair, sunken eyes, and dirtied nails looked, hid their face, then sobbed. I imagined them in a pack together, fighting wildly against the Spoiled Purity in their rat decorumâbiting down with square teeth laced with rabies. âIâve got you all something,â I said. âGo back off to your pedestal and yap some more. We donât want it.â A woman rose from the pile and spat. âYou donât even know what it is yet. It's Earth hooch, or more likely a near-flawless replica. I figured you girls would also like a chance to enjoy yourselves tonight.â âYour playmates have been harassing us since the moment you hung the banners and opened the cellar door.â The youngest, with a striking cyan mop upon her head, uncoiled from the mass. What was she now? 20, 21? We celebrated a birthday recently, I thought as she spun around me. âI remember something about a promise. Multiple promises, actually. Are you trying to bribe us into just shutting up and taking it? Because if another sticky, 40-year-old, Earth-born virgin gropes my shoulder, Iâm going to have an aneurysm!â the girl continued. âWhy not an Infran follower? Do you like it when they touch you?â I returned her accusing tone. âIâm sorry, sweet prophets, that you feel Iâve neglected my duties. Iâll keep a better eye out. Remember, you can always just holler if somebody is bothering you. And Anwen, friend, if Iâve ever tried to bribe you with anything, it was certainly the hair dye. I mean, look at you! Such handsomeness!â I exclaimed. The other Siblys began to encircle her, uttering compliments or even announcements of their envy. Anwen disappeared in a wink with flushed cheeks back into the mound. âIâll just leave this here.â Smiling, I set down the bottle. ** â141, 143. . .â I counted each step as I trekked the staircase. There was no doubt I lost track somewhere. The ledges kept spawning under my feet, infinitely multiplying until I wasnât moving at allâswallowing me up in a whirlpool of stone. My tie still hung around my neck, and my blazer remained tied around my hips as a skirt. Streaks of red dribbled off from the cavity in my chest. It was a gorgeous marking, sensual to my fingertips as I traced its edges. Purity, oh, Purity. Purity and his wings of burnt skin. Purity and his many faces. Purity the spoiled. Purity the mutilated. The Silbys did not bother waiting for me. On bare feet, they stormed up the stairs to their room. A trail of red, though in paint unlike mine, streamed after them. None looked remotely near me as they squeaked and gossiped intangibly. I saved them, those Infran broads, enlightened them. As much as they liked to deny it, spit at me, and bask in the thought of their victimhood, in this home, they stood empowered. Youâve done well, my thoughts affirmed, though in the manner of an insincere commentator rather than a hype man. Teeth grace in tile violin goes laundry paper when. It dissolved into an intruding drivel. I rubbed my head and sniveled. âDo you need help, Knox?â called a Silby. Fattened by my coddling, her shadow fell upon me from the doorway steps ahead. I attempted counting again. There mustâve been at least another hundred between me and her. âIâm hallucinating some,â I said, breathing deeply to suppress a burp as I struggled to recall her name. Two syllables. Typically Latin, though sometimes English. Drops of slobber leaked from my mouth. âIâm hallucinating some, Tybal. Do you like your name, Tybal? I would have named you something better. Ty-Tyballinia. No, weâd have to eliminate the âballâ aspect. It sounds too crude.â âOne foot in front of the other,â she said. So I walked. Mess greeted me at the doorway. Dirtied culinary obscured the dark wooden countertops, and the sink lay running. I approached the kitchen table, sat, and set my face down upon its cool wooden surface. Assaulting my nose was the smell of neglected flowers, like soil mixed with the kind of sweet cough medicine that would have left me gagging as a child. Open windows whispered songs of the twilight hour through the vessels of busy trolleys and shooting guns. My mouth strained to vomit, but there was nothing in my stomach to regurgitate except the petals of Stultoâs bloom, which came out effortlessly in little sputters. Teetering, I stood up and brushed disgorged plant parts off the tabletop. âLove,â I said as I slogged up yet another staircase. âAre you awake?â She said sheâd wait. Somebodyâs gotten her. No, she always misses movie night. That sleepyhead, I assured myself. There was a stirring amidst the manorâs cloak of dusk. Portraits of myself, my wife, and my daughter turned to face me as the hallway lights flickered, escaping their quartz frames to penetrate my ears with nonsense. The taxidermied heads of Infran creatures bared their teeth. I stopped to stare at my favorite, an adabactor with daunting spiked tusks poking out from its forehead. Its nose remained black and sharp, and its eyes wide with malice. âWhere is my Spes, Adaba-boy? Is she sleepy?â Thereâs someone in the house. The sounds of the stirring rose along with my blood pressure. Footsteps orbited around me, drawing near and far and then near again, little dancers in the dark. The carpet immersed me in its mass of purples and blues, leaving my skin stained indigo and my vision abstracted. I toiled to reach the master bedroom across the aisle as it stretched out to me with bright lights and celestial howling, like a dove struggling in a pool of oil. Never again with Stultoâs bloom. Never again on what was already a bad night. My hand brushed the doorknob, and the high abruptly faded into only a persistent hum-buzz twirling around my brain. The portraits returned to their typical depressionâSpes posing with her ax, Ariâs school photo, and myself in the cap I wore when addressing the military with the Verbis emblem embroidered in its center. All lifeless shots. Who were they for when they captured not the subjectâs essence but only some fragment of their identity? They used to feel personal, not advertisements of some supposed characters. Servants, babysitters, and likewise civilian guests, I reminded myself, mustnât forget whose home theyâre in. Yet my body moved independently, taking Ariâs from its hook and laying it backward against the wall to hide her distant grin and tamed posture. It was time for new pictures. Sweet ones, real ones; time was ticking. I approached my own when the stirring began again. Groans and squeals erupted from the vents as if someone had set a pen of pigs loose in my crawlspace. No, not the crawlspace, my bedroom door. I turned the ruby knob. Underneath a blanket wrestled my two squealing piglets, their skins melting together beneath the layer of duvet. Fishnet leggings and manicured nails outstretched and scraped at the sheet beneath them. One raised its head, a salmon-colored man with sweat running down his forehead. Through the crack in the door, we met eyes, his Infran Dr. Sesuss nose flaring its narrow nostrils. No mark of the Spoiled Purity existed carved onto his naked body. My chest felt tight. I stepped back. I was suffocating. Spes emerged from the linens, her hair flowing down her back and her dark skin glistening in front of the bedroom window. She giggled and held the man, the blanket falling and revealing inches of her body I had not seen in months. âDarling,â whispered the rosy-faced man, âlook.â He was unfathomably ugly and grotesquely young, with beady, lifeless pupils that dilated when he faced me. The excess flesh on his face sagged while he bit down on his thin lips. My wife faced me, gasped, and strained to cover herself. Suddenly, I was a stranger. A small child who had walked into his parents having sex. I unfurled the door completely. âGet out of my house,â I said. The man stayed in place. âGet out of my house,â I repeated. âKnox,â Spes began. Tears ran down her round cheeks. âShut up!â I turned to the man, picking up a marble trophy from on top of my dresser. âGet out of my house! Iâll kill you!â âKnox!â Spes sobbed. âGod damn it! I hate you! You barely look at me. Every day, thereâs less passion. God, God, God, I donât want to fuck a dead man!â she screamed, âYou get out! Get! Get!â My hands wrapped tighter around the statue. That pig of a man was attached to her at the side, his face equipped with a scowl that challenged mine. He thought I was weak; frail like a decaying dementia-ridden senior. I imagined his skull bashed in, his scowl gone, and the feist and confidence in his face beaten into numbness. A new portrait was in order of such brutality, him as a splintered slab of wood, rashed and beaten, a carcass licking my boot. The churning in my brain had come back. Every wall shook. Clock faces came to life and rang in alarm. Indescribable noises caressed my eardrum before breaking into sorrowful weeps. Was it my own? I stared at Spes in motionless frenzy, clenched my teeth, and screamed like a siren. Passionless. What a lie! An excuse, more like. One that erased all my ventures, reducing me to a nobody. But I was not a nobody. I thought of my sect, my campaigns, my endurance through the political brutality of my empty hive-mind worldâeven my collection of literature, maps, and artifacts. I thought of daring nights alone with Spes when we were young, ravaging each other, two sardonic eggheads suddenly overcome with desire. The veins in my neck throbbed as I gasped for air. It was all I had. I threw the figurine at the manâs head. Eye shut, I heard the thud. A million singing voices of victory flooded out of the cracks in the floorboard. Proving myself a man to the woman I loved in a display of fervent violence was passion. I strained my ears for his cries, though I did not look yet. There had to be a pause, a moment of relief, where I stood tall as a skyscraper and seemingly fought to stay contained in front of my wife and her wounded, quivering paramour. Frantic footsteps rushed off the bed and past my side. I turned and grappled against myself to seize my wifeâs shoulder. âSpes!â My eyelids lifted. Escaping was the man with that same numb expression in which I had imagined him. âYouâre insane,â he said. I swiveled back towards the bed. With her curly locks flowing over her breasts and her limbs bent at her sides, Spes sat limp pressed against the headboard, her forehead bludgeoned and the statue resting on her stomach. Lips pursed and sweet, my Renaissance beauty reclined there in the guise of a squashed bug. But she was not dead. The desk ornament I flung was only the size of my shoe. Spes, that dramatist, may have been slightly hurt but was far from dead. She only wanted me to think she was to observe me at my most distraught, like a leech feeding on misery. âGet up.â Staggering toward the bed, I said. âYou wanted passion? I showed you passion. âShoved it right into your head. Of course, we both know who that gesture was meant for. . .â I fumbled to find my wit. Cold skin met my hands as I stroked her face, unable to resist checking her pulse, even though she was not dead. âI love you, Spes,â I said. Rain pelted against a nearby window. âSpes, please. Please.â No vibration answered my plea. I lifted my hand, sitting next to her now. Tears did not come. There was not any blood on the trophy, but when I picked it up, it felt to be now only a cruel instrument. It depicted a younger me in white marble, with my glasses and collared shirt being the only things painted. Both were in pink. It was a favorable color. I scrambled from the bed to vomit pure digestive bile on the rug. My stomach heaved. I ran my nails along every piece of myself I saw, a dog chasing my tail. As I slammed myself against walls and convulsed, my own heart grew ever louder in my chest. âDad? I heardââ Ariâs slippered feet hammered across the floor. âMom? Mom?â I kept my eyes on the storm. Silence fell. âShe-She isnâtâyourâ.â Gasps interrupted every syllable she spoke. âYouâre a murderer. Bad. Like they said,â she breathed, â You beat her!â The words became mush, alphabet soup. Ari ran back down the hall. âMy-My mom is dead. . . .Yes. . . Manor of the Trials Sovereignty. . .Ari Sorkin. . . Iâm afraid heâs going to hurt me,â she said, presumably over the phone. It was all too fast. I crawled onto the windowsill, opened the glass, and let myself plummet into the alley below. Gusts of wind howled. The lack of motion or sensation informed me I had passed and again lived. Another Palatium Infra, another strange planet in which the celestial endowed rotting men with the opportunity to inhabit. Was this it? Was it all just an impossible limbo of galactic traveling? My surroundings were overwhelmingly gray, an abyss of clouds. Perhaps I had now met the real coming world, and my family and old friends lived here, ready to rush to my sides, lift me up, and jump for joy. Spes would be there. She would be enraged, but at least sheâd be there. You are a bad man. You are a bad man. My eyelashes fluttered. There was a tugging sensation in my leg. The fog was wavering along with my ascendance. âNo,â I yearned, trying to grip the clouds and stick them in place. âStay with me.â But the peace was fleeting. I felt the cement under me and the moist garments clinging to my figure. My leg burned. Carefully, I craned my neck, only to observe the promenade as my surroundings. The most underwhelming of filth and danger, individually Infran. Forever my coming world. What a fool I was, having forgotten my blessing. Those idiot Gods could not tell the difference between assassination and self-infliction; a faulty insurance plan. The urge to cry at last set over me, and so I sat and wailed hot salvia into my palm, shielding my mouth to muffle the noise. Thunder echoed my hushed howling. Raindrops turned to pebbles. Under the ambiance of the stormy night, I could have sworn I heard troops stomping, guns cocking, and the chanting of my name. They had all been waiting for this. Billboards came to life, and I could only sit and spectate as the scenery flashed red. I inhaled fear and sobriety through runny nostrils. âTrials Sovereign Vsevolod âKnoxâ Sorkin is currently at large for the suspected homicide of Spes Sorkin, breaking the first term of the Sovereignty Charter. We now instruct you to report any sightings of the Earth-born, caucasian, roughly 195 centimeters tall, brown-haired, and brown-eyed man to your local Guard post. One can identify the suspected convict specifically by an occult tattoo of Purityâs Coronet on his lower back. No attempted execution or elongated punishment will take place until our Guards conduct an autopsy proving his guilt, per Lifeâs 1238 commandment. We cannot be sure when or if the Gods will revoke his blessing. Remember, when Gods frown upon strife, opt for a peaceful life. We permit all grieving festivities until Cagidus 4th. Good year!â towering buildings sang out in broadcast, repeating that same convoluted message quicker the instant it ended. Sometimes, the announcer spoke in Latin for the Infran children, other times in Chinese, Hindi, or Spanish to cater to those of irrelevant tongues. You arenât a bad man. You are a stupid boy. Puddles sloshed. Somebody was approaching. I didnât dare waste any remaining energy avoiding the Guards and their prodding blades. How did that phrase go? You dug your grave. Now lie in it. And so I embraced the cement. âKnox?â said the Guard. No, her tone was too sincere, and no authority would proceed in such a manner. There wasnât confirmation on whether or not I was armed, and it wasnât as if she could shoot me first. She was a partygoer, having just left from the cellarâs backdoor. I shooed her away with my hand. She hovered, and I discerned her shadow hesitating over my body. A man could not rot in peace. âCome on, get up! Theyâre after you!â Hands reached around my torso, struggling to handle my weight as they urged me onto my feet. That leg, the burning one, my right, trembled and bent unnaturally upon impact with the ground. The partygoer slung my arm over her shoulder, balancing me. My eyes caught a glimpse of a cyan mop. âAnwen?â I rasped, âhu-who let you out?â Keys jangled in her handsâmy keys. âI escaped,â she said casually, coercing me to walk beside her. âQuicken your pace. I just heard somebody on your front porch. âYou see that compost bin down the alley? Weâre gonna burrow right down into the depth of that. If they open it and uncover us, Iâll be on top, and I can hide you and act like Iâm just a homeless amica trying to take a nap.â With a tightening grip, she led me like livestock to the stinking crate. âI donât understand, Anwen,â I said. âTheyâre going to torture and kill you, stupid. You know theyâve been wanting to, and you just handed the opportunity to them!â âI understand that.â It was becoming increasingly challenging to hide the fragility emerging in my voice. âYou said you were escaping. Why stop and help your captor?â âWhat else could I do? Leave you there?â Attempts to shove my wounded body inside its mass of discarded fruits and vegetables began. She yanked down upon my head and submerged me in the fertilizer sea. The evidence grows indisputable, I thought as I stared at the abruptly humane Infran girl, diving in after me, that I belong here. âDamn me to hell! Iâve killed her! My love is dead!â an uncontrollable cry leaped from my mouth. âShut up! Soon youâll be, too, if you donât quiet down.â The actual noise of the Guards darted past us: disorientated marching, guns clanking against each other, cluttered belts rattling, the Latin squawking. One paused to open the binâs lid, though only rummaged through the surface layer of peat before carrying on. âWhat are they talking about? I struggle with my Latin,â I whispered. âThe search, mainly.â Aggression remained firey in Anwenâs clenched jaw. Though she sat on top of me, there was a monumental distance between our rain-soaked forms. I curled up into a ball, ducked my head between my knees, and dreamt of Spes, ignoring the stench of spoiled food rising from every crevice of my dwelling. The next coming world was due to adopt me again as I forced sleep. I prayed for a canyon of fluffy haze, where I waltzed with pale memories but found nothing but the petrifying stillness of my mind. Killed and ran. Violent as a Guard just to prove a point and watch it backfire. Why would any heaven want to welcome me? I clung to the picture of Spes in my head like it was the last ember of an extinguished flame. âDid you mean to kill her?â Anwen interrogated. âSomeone like you would immutably believe yes.â âAnd who is someone like me? You canât even treat me like a person for a moment, can you?â grating drama decorated her words. âYou know my opinions. I have not seen much of your or your breedâs faces besides that of cruelty and ignorance.â I retorted. âI just saved you! Does that make me cruel and ignorant?â âIt makes you an idiot, which is another word for somebody ignorant.â âAnd why am I an idiot?â She asked. âBecause you helping me does no good. Thank you anyhow. Now, do yourself a favor and scram.â As she bent her leg in anticipation, preparing to strike me on the forehead, I sensed an invisible withdrawal widening the gap between us. âYou never answered my question,â Anwen took me by the end of my tattered tie suddenly and started her game of shepherd and sheep over again, pulling me back up to the crateâs exit. It appeared as a shining light at the end of a maze of rubbish and mold. âNo. Of course not. Spes was my everything,â I sniffled. âI knew it. You couldnât even bring yourself to hit us, let alone murder your wife. The girls and I always figured you were sensitive.â My heart rate quickened. Today was one of humbling and miseryâone to pray a hail spike would fall from the sky as sharp as a needle, pierce into my eyelid, and lobotomize me. I wished I could have merely died or hit my head hard enough not to have to deal with it all. No, I wished I was Anwen with her snarky, careless glow and lack of depth in her eyes. As we emerged from the compost bin together, I fantasized about strangling her until her face turned purple, her weakening spirit no longer categorizing me as âsensitiveâ, but the thought could only remind me of wielding that trophy and the microscopic traces of my wifeâs tender skin tainting it, which turned my guts inside out. âThatâs why I think you could use a little help,â Anwen said, âIt seems like you canât walk, either. Your leg is all twisted up.â She undid one of her trim pigtails and handed me the band. âTake off your tie and put up your hair. âWill make you less recognizable. Then swallow your pride and stick with me.â
弽çďźć šćć¨ćäžçčĄ¨ć ź [NEW SOURCE]ďźäťĽä¸ćŻčĄ¨ć źä¸äžĺĽçä¸ćććďź * **1. all** * **ĺ
¨é¨ç**ďź**All** my friends were here with me. (ćććçćĺçśćé˝ĺ¨é裥ă) * **ĺ
¨é¨**ďź**All** of us enjoyed the movie. (ćĺććäşşé˝ĺžĺćĄéé¨éťĺ˝ąă) * **é˝**ďźHe got **all** wet. (äťĺ
¨čşŤé˝ćżéäşă) * **2. along** * **沿č**ďźWe walked **along** the river yesterday evening. (ćĺć¨ĺ¤Šĺć沿č河éćŁćĽă) * **帜âŚâŚä¸čľˇ**ďźWhen my mother goes out, she takes my little brother **along**. (ć媽媽ĺ¤ĺşćďźć帜čćçĺ°ĺźĺźä¸čľˇĺťă) * **3. angle** * **č§éť**ďźWe should look at the problems from different **angles**. (ćĺć芲ĺžä¸ĺçč§éťäžçĺž
éäşĺéĄă) * **č§ĺşŚ**ďźThe picture is hanging at an **angle** of 45°. (éĺźľçŤäťĽ 45 庌çč§ĺşŚć¸ćčă) * **4. answer** * **çćĄ**ďźDo you know the **answer** to the question? (ä˝ çĽééĺĺéĄççćĄĺďź) * **ĺçďźĺć**ďźCould you **answer** the phone for me? (ä˝ ĺŻäťĽĺšŤććĽä¸ä¸éťčŠąĺďź) * **5. back** * **ĺžé˘**ďźShe wrote her cellphone number down on the **back** of the paper. (弚ć弚çććŠč碟寍ĺ¨ç´çčé˘ă) * **ĺžé˘ç**ďźOpen the **back** door, please. (čŤćéĺžé˘çéă) * **ĺĺč**ďźItâs time to go **back** home. (芲ĺ厜äşă) * **6. bat** * **čč **ďźDid you ever see a **bat** flying quickly in the sky at night? (ä˝ ćžçśçéčč ĺ¨ĺ¤çŠşä¸ĺżŤééŁčĄĺďź) * **çćŁ**ďźSwing the **bat** higher. (ćçćŁćŽéŤä¸éťă) * **ć**ďźItâs your turn to **bat**. (蟪ĺ°ä˝ ććäşă) * **7. bite** * **ä¸ĺŁçé**ďźJane took a **bite** of the guava. (çĺŹäşä¸ĺŁčć¨ă) * **ĺŹ**ďźThe dog **bit** the womanâs leg. (éŁéťçĺŹäşéŁĺ弳人çč
żă) * **8. book** * **ć¸**ďźIâve just started reading a **book** by Stephen King. (ćĺéĺ§čŽä¸ćŹĺ˛ččŹÂˇéçć¸ă) * **é č¨ďźé ç´**ďźThey **booked** two seats at the theater. (äťĺĺ¨ĺé˘é č¨äşĺ
Šĺĺş§ä˝ă) * **9. block** * **čĄĺ**ďźNancy and I live on the same **block**. (ĺĺ¸ĺćä˝ĺ¨ĺä¸ĺčĄĺă) * **éťć**ďźThose heavy boxes **blocked** my way to the restroom. (éŁäşć˛éç玹ĺćä˝äşćĺťć´ćéç衯ă) * **10. bow** * **č´čśçľ**ďźDavid chose a gray **bow** tie to go with his black suit. (大čĄé¸ćäşä¸ĺç°č˛č´čśé çľäžćé
äťçéťč˛čĽżčŁă) * **é 躏**ďźThe actor **bowed** to everyone before he left the stage. (éŁä˝ćźĺĄĺ¨é˘éčĺ°ĺĺ大厜é 躏ă) * **11. break** * **ćŤĺďźäźćŻ**ďźIâm tired. Can we take a **break**? (ćç´ŻäşăćĺĺŻäťĽäźćŻä¸ä¸ĺďź) * **ĺč§Ł**ďźThese plastic forks are hard to **break** down. (éäşĺĄč ĺĺĺžéŁĺč§Łă) * **ćç ´**ďźThe glass is very expensive. Donât **break** it. (éĺçťçĺžč˛´ăä¸čŚćç ´ĺŽă) * **12. bright** * **ć´ćç**ďźItâs a **bright** morning. Why not take a walk along the river? (éćŻĺć´ćçćŠć¨ăä˝ä¸ć˛żč河éćŁćĽĺ˘ďź) * **ć于ç**ďźThe room isnât **bright** enough. Letâs not read here. (éĺćżéä¸ĺ¤ ć于ăćĺä¸čŚĺ¨é裥éąčŽă) * **13. call** * **ćéťčŠą**ďźI got a **call** from my old friend last night. (ćć¨ććĽĺ°ćčćĺçéťčŠąă) * **ćéťčŠą**ďźTina **called** me last night. We talked a lot about music. (čĺ¨ć¨ććéťčŠąçľŚćăćĺčäşĺžĺ¤éćźéłć¨çäşă) * **ĺźĺ**ďźListen! Is that a **call** for help? (č˝ďźéŁćŻćąćçĺźĺĺďź) * **ĺźĺ**ďźWhy did you **call** my name then? (éŁä˝ çśćçşäťéşźĺćçĺĺďź) * **14. camp** * **çé**ďźPatrick joined a science **camp** this summer. (ć´žĺąĺ
äťĺš´ĺ¤ĺ¤Šĺĺ äşä¸ĺç§ĺ¸çéă) * **é˛ç**ďźThey **camped** by the river yesterday. (äťĺć¨ĺ¤Šĺ¨ć˛łéé˛çă) * **15. case** * **玹ďźç**ďźThe kids drank the whole **case** of Coke. (ĺŠĺĺĺćäşä¸ć´çŽąĺŻć¨ă) * **富äžďźć
ćł**ďźThe number of new **cases** of Covid-19 is growing. (ć°ĺ čşççć°ĺ˘ç
äžć¸ćŁĺ¨ĺ˘ĺ ă) * **16. catch** * **ćĽç**ďźNice **catch**! My good dog. (ćĽĺžĺĽ˝ďźćç弽ççă) * **罚ćŁďźç
ďź**ďźMy head hurts. I may **catch** a cold. (ćé çăćĺŻč˝ćĺäşă) * **ćä˝**ďźI didnât **catch** the ball. (ćć˛ććĽĺ°éŁĺçă) * **17. change** * **éśé˘ďźćžéś**ďźI think youâve given me the wrong **change**. (ććłä˝ ćžéŻé˘äşă) * **ćščŽďźäş¤ć**ďźThe leaves **change** (in color) from green to red in the fall. (ç§ĺ¤Šćďźć¨ščçéĄč˛ĺžçś č˛čŽćç´
č˛ă) * **18. clean** * **ććďźć¸
ç**ďźTom **cleans** the toilet once a week. (暯ĺ§ä¸éąććä¸ćŹĄéŚŹćĄśă) * **䚞桨ç**ďźThe water isnât **clean**. Donât drink it. (éć°´ä¸äšžćˇ¨ăä¸čŚĺă) * **19. close** * **éďźé**ďź**Close** your books, students. Letâs have a pop quiz. (ĺĺ¸ĺďźćä˝ ĺçć¸éä¸ăćĺčŚé˛čĄé¨ĺ 渏éŠă) * **é čżĺ°**ďźJane sat **close** to her husband at the party. (ĺ¨ć´žĺ°ä¸ďźççˇć¨č弚çä¸ĺ¤Ťĺčă) * **20. cold** * **ćĺ**ďźI had a **cold** a week ago. (ćä¸ĺććĺćĺäşă) * **ĺŻĺˇç**ďźIt was **cold** last night. (ć¨ćĺžĺˇă)
She went by the name of Belisa Crepusculario, not because she had been baptized with that name or given it by her mother, but because she herself had searched until she found the poetry of "beauty" and "twilight" and cloaked herself in it. She made her living selling words. She journeyed through the country from the high cold mountains to the burning coasts, stopping at fairs and in markets where she set up four poles covered by a canvas awning under which she took refuge from the sun and rain to minister to her customers. She did not have to peddle her merchandise because from having wandered far and near, everyone knew who she was. Some people waited for her from one year to the next, and when she appeared in the village with her bundle beneath her arm, they would form a line in front of her stall. Her prices were fair. For five centavos she delivered verses from memory, for seven she improved the quality of dreams, for nine she wrote love letters, for twelve she invented insults for irreconcilable enemies. She also sold stories, not fantasies but long, true stories she recited at one telling, never skipping a word. This is how she carried news from one town to another. People paid her to add a line or two: our son was born, so-and-so died, our children got married, the crops burned in the field. Wherever she went a small crowd gathered around to listen as she began to speak, and that was how they learned about each others' doings, about distant relatives, about what was going on in the civil war. To anyone who paid her fifty centavos in trade, she gave the gift of a secret word to drive away melancholy. It was not the same word for everyone, naturally, because that would have been collective dece it. Each person received his or her own word, with the assurance that no one else would use it that way in this universe or the Beyond. Belisa Crepusculario had been born into a family so poor they did not even have names to give their children. She came into the world and grew up in an inhospitable land where some years the rains became avalanches of water that bore everything away before them and others when not a drop fell from the sky and the sun swelled to fill the horizon and the world became a desert. Until she was twelve, Belisa had no occupation or virtue other than having withstood hunger and the exhaustion of centuries. During one interminable drought, it fell to her to bury four younger brothers and sisters, when she realized that her turn was next, she decided to set out across the 2 plains in the direction of the sea, in hopes that she might trick death along the way. The land was eroded, split with deep cracks, strewn with rocks, fossils of trees and thorny bushes, and skeletons of animals bleached by the sun. From time to time she ran into families who, like her, were heading south, following the mirage of water. Some had begun the march carrying their belongings on their back or in small carts, but they could barely move their own bones, and after a while they had to abandon their possessions. They dragged themselves along painfully, their skin turned to lizard hide and their eyes burned by the reverberating glare. Belisa greeted them with a wave as she passed, but she did not stop, because she had no strength to waste in acts of compassion. Many people fell by the wayside, but she was so stubborn that she survived to cross through that hell and at long last reach the first trickles of water, fine, almost invisible threads that fed spindly vegetation and farther down widened into small streams and marshes. Belisa Crepusculario saved her life and in the process accidentally discovered writing. In a village near the coast, the wind blew a page of newspaper at her feet. She picked up the brittle yellow paper and stood a long while looking at it, unable to determine its purpose, until curiosity overcame her shyness. She walked over to a man who was washing his horse in the muddy pool where she had quenched her thirst. "What is this?" she asked. "The sports page of the newspaper," the man replied, concealing his surprise at her ignorance. The answer astounded the girl, but she did not want to seem rude, so she merely inquired about the significance of the fly tracks scattered across the page. "Those are words, child. Here it says that Fulgencio Barba knocked out El Negro Tiznao in the third round." That was the day Belisa Crepusculario found out that words make their way in the world without a master, and that anyone with a little cleverness can appropriate them and do business with them. She made a quick assessment of her situation and concluded that aside from becoming a prostitute or working as a servant in the kitchens of the rich there were few occupations she was qualified for. It seemed to her that selling words would be an honorable alternative. From that moment on, she worked at that profession, and was never tempted by any other. At the beginning, she offered her merchandise unaware that words could be written outside of newspapers. When she learned otherwise, she calculated the infinite possibilities of her trade and with her savings paid a priest twenty pesos to teach her to read and write, with her three 3 remaining coins she bought a dictionary. She poured over it from A to Z and then threw it into the sea, because it was not her intention to defraud her customers with packaged words. One August morning several years later, Belisa Crepusculario was sitting in her tent in the middle of a plaza, surrounded by the uproar of market day, selling legal arguments to an old man who had been trying for sixteen years to get his pension. Suddenly she heard yelling and thudding hoofbeats. She looked up from her writing and saw, first, a cloud of dust, and then a band of horsemen come galloping into the plaza. They were the Colonel's men, sent under orders of El Mulato, a giant known throughout the land for the speed of his knife and his loyalty to his chief. Both the Colonel and El Mulato had spent their lives fighting in the civil war, and their names were ineradicably linked to devastation and calamity. The rebels swept into town like a stampeding herd, wrapped in noise, bathed in sweat, and leaving a hurricane of fear in their trail. Chickens took wing, dogs ran for their lives, women and children scurried out of sight, until the only living soul left in the market was Belisa Crepusculario. She had never seen El Mulato and was surprised to see him walking toward her. "I'm looking for you," he shouted, pointing his coiled whip at her, even before the words were out, two men rushed her -- knocking over her canopy and shattering her inkwell -- bound her hand and foot, and threw her like a sea bag across the rump of El Mulato's mount. Then they thundered off toward the hills. Hours later, just as Belisa Crepusculario was near death, her heart ground to sand by the pounding of the horse, they stopped, and four strong hands set her down. She tried to stand on her feet and hold her head high, but her strength failed her and she slumped to the ground, sinking into a confused dream. She awakened several hours later to the murmur of night in the camp, but before she had time to sort out the sounds, she opened her eyes and found herself staring into the impatient glare of El Mulato, kneeling beside her. "Well, woman, at last you've come to," he said. To speed her to her senses, he tipped his canteen and offered her a sip of liquor laced with gunpowder. She demanded to know the reason for such rough treatment, and El Mulato explained that the Colonel needed her services. He allowed her to splash water on her face, and then led her to the far end of the camp where the most feared man in all the land was lazing in a hammock strung between two trees. She could not see his face, because he lay in the deceptive shadow of the leaves and the indelible shadow of all his years as a bandit, but she imagined from the way his 4 gigantic aide addressed him with such humility that he must have a very menacing expression. She was surprised by the Colonel's voice, as soft and well-modulated as a professor's. "Are you the woman who sells words?" he asked. "At your service," she stammered, peering into the dark and trying to see him better. The Colonel stood up, and turned straight toward her. She saw dark skin and the eyes of a ferocious puma, and she knew immediately that she was standing before the loneliest man in the world. "I want to be President," he announced. The Colonel was weary of riding across that godforsaken land, waging useless wars and suffering defeats that no subterfuge could transform into victories. For years he had been sleeping in the open air, bitten by mosquitoes, eating iguanas and snake soup, but those minor inconveniences were not why he wanted to change his destiny. What truly troubled him was the terror he saw in people's eyes. He longed to ride into a town beneath a triumphal arch with bright flags and flowers everywhere, he wanted to be cheered, and be given newly laid eggs and freshly baked bread. Men fled at the sight of him, children trembled, and women miscarried from fright, he had had enough, and so he had decided to become President. El Mulato had suggested that they ride to the capital, gallop up to the Palace, and take over the government, the way they had taken so many other things without anyone's permission. The Colonel, however, did not want to be just another tyrant, there had been enough of those before him and, besides, if he did that, he would never win people's hearts. It was his aspiration to win the popular vote in the December elections. "To do that, I have to talk like a candidate. Can you sell me the words for a speech?" the Colonel asked Belisa Crepusculario. She had accepted many assignments, but none like this. She did not dare refuse, fearing that El Mulato would shoot her between the eyes, or worse still, that the Colonel would burst into tears. There was more to it than that, however, she felt the urge to help him because she felt a throbbing warmth beneath her skin, a powerful desire to touch that man, to fondle him, to clasp him in her arms. All night and a good part of the following day, Belisa Crepusculario searched her repertory for words adequate for a presidential speech, closely watched by El Mulato, who could not take his eyes from her firm wanderer's legs and virginal breasts. She discarded harsh, cold words, words 5 that were too flowery, words worn from abuse, words that offered improbable promises, untruthful and confusing words, until all she had left were words sure to touch the minds of men and women's intuition. Calling upon the knowledge she had purchased from the priest for twenty pesos, she wrote the speech on a sheet of paper and then signaled El Mulato to untie the rope that bound her ankles to a tree. He led her once more to the Colonel, and again she felt the throbbing anxiety that had seized her when she first saw him. She handed him the paper and waited while he looked at it, holding it gingerly between thumbs and fingertips. "What the shit does this say," he asked finally. "Don't you know how to read?" "War's what I know," he replied. She read the speech aloud. She read it three times, so her client could engrave it on his memory. When she finished, she saw the emotion in the faces of the soldiers who had gathered round to listen, and saw that the Colonel's eyes glittered with enthusiasm, convinced that with those words the presidential chair would be his. "If after they've heard it three times, the boys are still standing there with their mouths hanging open, it must mean the thing's damn good, Colonel" was El Mulato's approval. "All right, woman. How much do I owe you?" the leader asked. "One peso, Colonel." "That's not much," he said, opening the pouch he wore at his belt, heavy with proceeds from the last foray. "The peso entitles you to a bonus. I'm going to give you two secret words," said Belisa Crepusculario. "What for?" She explained that for every fifty centavos a client paid, she gave him the gift of a word for his exclusive use. The Colonel shrugged. He had no interest at all in her offer, but he did not want to be impolite to someone who had served him so well. She walked slowly to the leather stool where he was sitting, and bent down to give him her gift. The man smelled the scent of a mountain cat issuing from the woman, a fiery heat radiating from her hips, he heard the terrible whisper of her hair, and a breath of sweetmint murmured into his ear the two secret words that were his alone. "They are yours, Colonel," she said as she stepped back. "You may use them as much as you 6 please." El Mulato accompanied Belisa to the roadside, his eyes as entreating as a stray dog's, but when he reached out to touch her, he was stopped by an avalanche of words he had never heard before; believing them to be an irrevocable curse, the flame of his desire was extinguished. During the months of September, October, and November the Colonel delivered his speech so many times that had it not been crafted from glowing and durable words it would have turned to ash as he spoke. He travelled up and down and across the country, riding into cities with a triumphal air, stopping in even the most forgotten villages where only the dump heap betrayed a human presence, to convince his fellow citizens to vote for him. While he spoke from a platform erected in the middle of the plaza, El Mulato and his men handed out sweets and painted his name on all the walls in gold frost. No one paid the least attention to those advertising ploys; they were dazzled by the clarity of the Colonel's proposals and the poetic lucidity of his arguments, infected by his powerful wish to right the wrongs of history, happy for the first time in their lives. When the Candidate had finished his speech, his soldiers would fire their pistols into the air and set off firecrackers, and when finally they rode off, they left behind a wake of hope that lingered for days on the air, like the splendid memory of a comet's tail. Soon the Colonel was the favorite. No one had ever witnessed such a phenomenon: a man who surfaced from the civil war, covered with scars and speaking like a professor, a man whose fame spread to every corner of the land and captured the nation's heart. The press focused their attention on him. Newspapermen came from far away to interview him and repeat his phrases, and the number of his followers and enemies continued to grow. "We're doing great, Colonel," said El Mulato, after twelve successful weeks of campaigning. But the Candidate did not hear. He was repeating his secret words, as he did more and more obsessively. He said them when he was mellow with nostalgia; he murmured them in his sleep; he carried them with him on horseback; he thought them before delivering his famous speech; and he caught himself savoring them in his leisure time. And every time he thought of those two words, he thought of Belisa Crepusculario, and his senses were inflamed with the memory of her feral scent, her fiery heat, the whisper of her hair, and her sweetmint breath in his ear, until he began to go around like a sleepwalker, and his men realized that he might die before he ever sat in the presidential chair. "What's got hold of you, Colonel," El Mulato asked so often that finally one day his chief broke 7 down and told him the source of his befuddlement: those two words that were buried like two daggers in his gut. "Tell me what they are and maybe they'll lose their magic," his faithful aide suggested. "I can't tell them, they're for me alone," the Colonel replied. Saddened by watching his chief decline like a man with a death sentence on his head, El Mulato slung his rifle over his shoulder and set out to find Belisa Crepusculario. He followed her trail through all that vast country, until he found her in a village in the far south, sitting under her tent reciting her rosary of news. He planted himself, spraddle-legged, before her, weapon in hand. "You! You're coming with me," he ordered. She had been waiting. She picked up her inkwell, folded the canvas of her small stall, arranged her shawl around her shoulders, and without a word took her place behind El Mulato's saddle. They did not exchange so much as a word in all the trip; El Mulato's desire for her had turned into rage, and only his fear of her tongue prevented his cutting her to shreds with his whip. Nor was he inclined to tell her that the Colonel was in a fog, and that a spell whispered into his ear had done what years of battle had not been able to do. Three days later they arrived at the encampment, and immediately, in view of all the troops, El Mulato led his prisoner before the Candidate. "I brought this witch here so you can give her back her words, Colonel," El Mulato said, pointing the barrel of his rifle at the woman's head. "And then she can give you back your manhood." The Colonel and Belisa Crepusculario stared at each other, measuring one another from a distance. The men knew then that their leader would never undo the witchcraft of those accursed words, because the whole world could see the voracious-puma eyes soften as the woman walked to him and took his hand in hers. Copyright Š 1989 by Isabel Allende From The Stories of Eva Luna, Translated by Margaret Sayers Peden
Make a multiple choice quiz for my year 8 science students based on the science in this transcript from a video: 3°C 0:04 It can be the difference between snow and sleet 0:08 Wearing a jacket or not 0:11 In your day-to-day life, it may not seem significant 0:15 But 3°C of global warming would be catastrophic 0:20 Heatwaves, droughts, extreme precipitation, even fire 0:25 3°C of warming is really disastrous 0:28 The scary thing is, the world is well on its way there 0:32 Since the industrial revolution, the Earth has warmed between 1.1°C and 1.3°C 0:40 This is a problem that babies you pass in the street will have to live with 0:46 Children born today... 0:47 ...are up to seven times more likely to face extreme weather than their grandparents 0:52 If global temperatures do rise by 3°C... 0:55 ...what would their world look like? Climate change is already having devastating effects 1:03 Rising sea levels 1:05 Desertification 1:07 Hollywood has always enjoyed imagining the end of the world 1:11 While blockbusters like this are clearly fiction... 1:14 ...this film will show the scenario we all face... 1:17 ...unless more drastic measures are taken to stop burning fossil fuels 1:30 In some parts of the world the effects of inaction are already clear 1:35 The slums of Bangladeshâs capital are filling up with climate migrants 1:41 Minara comes from Bhola District, an area in southern Bangladesh 1:46 There, like many other parts of the country... 1:49 ...rivers swollen by heavier rain and melting Himalayan glaciers... 1:53 ...are washing away peopleâs homes 1:56 Many, like her, have lost everything 2:00 Our home in Bhola had endless amounts of land 2:03 There was lots of space for farming, we had a spacious house 2:08 There were different types of fruits, vegetation and trees growing at home 2:12 We used to eat the fruit from our own trees 2:18 I canât eat them now because they don't exist anymore 2:21 Since the river flooded for the third time, I had to flee to Dhaka 2:26 Life was much better back home 2:29 It was unbearable to live through, truly intolerable 2:33 We didnât have the time to save anything at all 2:38 1.1°C to 1.3°C of global warming has already transformed Minaraâs life 2:45 Itâs one of the reasons why so many migrants like her... 2:47 ...are moving to the city each year... 2:50 ...nearly 400,000 according to the last estimate 2:53 And climate models show there could be much worse to come How climate modelling works 3:02 Climate scientist Joeri Rogelj... 3:04 ...has spent the last ten years modelling future climate scenarios... 3:08 ...for the United Nations 3:10 The models we use to carry out this exercise... 3:13 ...really represent the state of the art... 3:15 ...of our current knowledge of climate change and where we are heading 3:19 Joeriâs projections use data collected by hundreds of scientists around the world 3:26 Here this is the 3°C level... 3:28 ...and so there is at least a one-in-four chance that under current policies... 3:32 ...we would hit 3°C by the end of the century 3:36 This is just one of the scenarios Joeri looks at 3:40 Another one imagines that all policy promises are kept 3:44 The most optimistic assumes that all promises have been kept... 3:47 ...and net-zero targets are met 3:50 Where our best estimate ends up around 2°C at the end of the century... 3:54 ...there is still a one-in-20 chance that we end up with 3°C instead 3:59 One would not be entering a plane if there is a one-in-20 chance... 4:03 ...that the plane will crash Nowhere is safe from global warming 4:07 A rise of 3°C would affect everyone 4:10 Even wealthy cities in rich countries wouldnât be immune to the consequences 4:15 European capitals like Paris and Berlin... 4:18 ...would bake under more extreme heatwaves 4:22 Frequent storm-surges in New York could turn parts of the city desolate 4:27 In many ways, cities magnify, intensify climate events 4:33 Cities are hotter than the places around them... 4:36 ...they tend to be more vulnerable to flooding 4:39 And you can get a really bad event in a city in a way that you canât in the countryside 4:46 And because of their denser populations... 4:49 ...disasters in a city affect far more people 4:52 Some cities might be badly prepared for the changes coming 4:56 But they have the means to adapt 4:59 Cities tend to be wealthier than surrounding places 5:03 They have a lot of amenities 5:05 A city that has taken seriously the risks of a 3°C world... 5:08 âŚwouldnât necessarily be a worse place to be in a 3°C world 5:12 But a city that hasnât prepared for these sort of eventualities... 5:16 ...that might be a really nasty place The impact of prolonged droughts 5:20 So far, many developed cities have got off lightly... 5:24 ...but some rural parts of the world are suffering disproportionately 5:29 Smallholdersâsmall-scale farmersâare particularly vulnerable to climate change 5:35 And there are over 600 million around the world 5:38 Smallholders with farms under two hectares... 5:40 ...produce around a third of the global food supply 5:46 Central Americaâs âDry Corridorâ... 5:48 ...supports a mix of smallholdings and medium-sized farms 5:53 Sandwiched between the Pacific Ocean and the Caribbean Sea... 5:56 ...the area is prone to droughts 6:08 Israel RamĂrez Rivera is a smallholder in Guatemala 6:12 Here, climate change is making the dry seasons longer, and more severe 6:18 This is the biggest ear of maize that this plot could deliver 6:23 He depends on his crops of corn and beans 6:26 But theyâre getting harder to grow 6:30 The surrounding mountains... 6:32 ...used to provide us with native food... 6:38 ...and now that isnât an option anymore... 6:41 ...due to climate change and its effects 6:46 Nearly two-thirds of the smallholders in the Dry Corridor now live in poverty 6:52 The impact of all of this for us... 6:59 ...malnutrition among children 7:03 Weâve lost a few 7:07 For my crops especially, the midsummer heat is harder than before 7:16 The plant dries up and canât provide us... 7:19 ...with the necessary food provision 7:24 Severe droughts in Central America... 7:26 ...are now four times more likely than they were last century 7:30 Many families from here have gone to the States 7:37 The economic despair and debts... 7:44 ...have pushed many people from this community to do this journey 7:53 Migration from Guatemala to the United States has quadrupled since 1990 7:59 Not all of this has been due to climate change 8:02 But longer droughts would force even more to move 8:05 In a 3°C world, annual rainfall in this region... 8:09 ...could drop by up to 14% 8:12 At 3°C, over a quarter of the worldâs population... 8:16 ...could endure extreme droughts for at least a month of the year 8:19 Northern Africa could see droughts that last for years at a time Rising sea levels, storm surges and flooding 8:24 But for some, too much water will be the problem 8:29 10% of the worldâs population lives on a coastline... 8:32 ...thatâs less than 10 metres above sea level 8:35 For these coastal inhabitants, a 3°C world would spell disaster 8:40 By 2100, global sea levels could have climbed by half a metre from 2005 levels 8:46 Low-lying cities like Lagos would be especially vulnerable... 8:49 ...with up to up to a third of the population displaced 8:54 And in Fiji, rising waters are already upending lives 9:04 You can see the graveyard there, itâs all under water now... 9:08 ...due to this rising sea level and climate change 9:15 The village of Togoru in Fiji is being swallowed by the sea 9:19 Barney Dunn, the village headman, has seen over half the village disappear 9:24 Relativesâ houses have been abandoned, and family graves are now under water 9:29 We have been asked by the government to relocate... 9:32 ...but no one wants to relocate... 9:34 ...because we have our great-great-grandparents down there in the sea 9:39 This is the place weâve been brought up in 9:41 ...itâs not easy to leave 9:44 Past attempts to build a seawall havenât worked 9:48 But Barney sees building a new one as the villageâs only hope 9:52 If they do that, maybe we can save whatever is left 9:56 But if we donât have the seawall, then it will be keep eroding and time will come... 10:01 ...maybe in ten,15 years, Togoru will be all eroded 10:05 Rising seas also mean storms cause more floods 10:11 And many more countries could suffer 10:14 The Philippines and Myanmar are just two countries... 10:17 ...that will also see an increase in storm surges in a 3°C world 10:21 To escape, many will move⌠10:24 âŚoften, to urban areas Extreme heat and wet-bulb temperatures 10:27 Half the worldâs population already lives in cities... 10:31 ...almost a third in slums 10:36 For them, a 3°C world could be deadly 10:40 Minara has moved to Dhaka to escape the impact of climate change 10:44 But life could get even worse for her 10:47 Iâm struggling a lot nowadays 10:49 The heat during the day is unbearable 10:52 Even late at night it doesnât cool down 10:57 The heat is getting more intense every day 10:59 I mean, itâs going to get much worse 11:03 I can barely survive it now, how will I live through it in the future? 11:08 Dhaka is getting hotter 11:11 In the last 20 years the average daytime temperature... 11:13 ...has crept up by nearly half a degree 11:17 Days that approach 40°C are now being reported 11:20 And high so-called wet-bulb temperatures are on the rise 11:26 A wet-bulb temperature is a measure of heat and humidity 11:30 Humans cool themselves by sweating⌠11:32 But in these conditions, when relative humidity is near 100%... 11:36 ...sweat doesnât evaporate well 11:38 So people canât cool down⌠11:41 ...even if given unlimited shade and water 11:45 At a high wet-bulb temperature, the body canât lose heat... 11:49 ...and so it gets hotter and hotter... 11:51 ...and the body is designed to work at a given temperature 11:53 And if it gets too hot inside, you will die 11:58 The human limit for wet-bulb temperatures is 35°C... 12:02 ...around skin temperature 12:04 Dhaka will have a much higher chance... 12:05 ...of reaching dangerous wet-bulb temperatures... 12:07 ...if global warming reaches 3°C 12:12 You canât really adapt to that 12:14 You have to get out. If the temperature is so high that you canât work... 12:20 ...canât do hard manual labour outside for significant parts of the year... 12:25 ...then many places will become functionally no longer part of the economy 12:33 Jacobabad in Pakistan, and Ras al Khaimah, in the United Arab Emirates... 12:37 ...have already recorded deadly wet-bulb temperatures 12:40 More of the tropics and the Persian Gulf... 12:43 ...as well as parts of Mexico and the south-eastern United States... 12:47 ...could all get to this threshold by the end of the century 12:50 Climate modelling might show us the weather Increased migration and conflict 12:52 But it doesnât show us its other effects on society 12:56 Established migration patterns could change 12:59 Climate disasters may exacerbate reasons people cross borders 13:03 Within countries, more people will move to cities 13:07 In a 3°C world, tens of millions of people a year... 13:10 ...could be displaced by disasters made worse by climate change 13:15 When people are displaced by climate... 13:18 âŚthey may well go to cities... 13:19 ...because cities are the places that attract people from the countryside already 13:25 A lot of people who can get to the developed world... 13:28 ...not least because the developed world tends to be less hot, will give that a go 13:35 As migration around the world increases... 13:38 ...there could be more competition for fewer resources 13:42 Waterâalready a highly contested resourceâwill be a focal point 13:47 Turkeyâs new Ilisu dam has reduced the flow of water into Iraq 13:53 China lays claim to rivers vital to India and Pakistan 13:57 The prospect of a water-conflict makes people very uneasy 14:03 How national tensions would exacerbate those sorts of reactions... 14:08 ...in a 3°C world... 14:09 ...is the sort of thing that no one should really want to find out 14:14 I think youâd have to be incredibly sanguine... 14:16 ...not to think that the sort of climate extremes that we talk about... 14:19 ...in a 3°C world wouldnât lead some places... 14:22 ...to the brink of societal collapse 14:25 Those lucky enough to escape unrest... Adaptation and mitigation are crucial 14:28 ...would still have to adapt to a radically different world 14:32 People can adapt to climate change in all sorts of ways, one of the most obvious ones... 14:37 ...is air conditioning 14:39 But other ways to adapt at a local or regional level... 14:42 ...I mean, one of the most obvious is diversifying agriculture 14:47 There are physical things you can do, like seawalls 14:52 The fact that people can adapt and that adaptation will reduce suffering... 14:57 ...doesnât mean that it will eliminate suffering 15:00 Suffering is built into this whole process of heating up the planet 15:06 Adaptation will only get the world so far 15:09 The best way to deal with a 3°C world... 15:12 ...is not to go to a 3°C world 15:14 And thatâs why increasing efforts on mitigation are important 15:17 Itâs why working towards negative emissions... 15:20 ...that could bring down the temperature after it peaks are important 15:25 Once you get to a 3°C world, you are in real bad global trouble 15:33 The scale of change needed... 15:35 ...and the slow progress of governments so far... 15:38 ...means 3°C of warming is uncomfortably likely unless more is done 15:44 Despite existing pledges, greenhouse-gas emissions... 15:48 ...are still set to rise by 16% from 2010 levels by 2030 15:54 The need to act has never been clearer 15:57 Thereâs still time to reduce emissions, so that a 3°C world remains fiction... 16:02 ...rather than becoming fact
Broken windows are covered. Floorboards are patched and doors screwed back on. The road that was ruined by German tanks is shovelled and raked smooth. Boot-shaped bruises turn yellow then fade and disappear. Flowers grow and spread across the ugly German footprints stomped into garden beds. The village looks pretty once more. School stops for the summer and everyone is put to work on the kolkhoz, the village farm. Women and big boys begin harvesting the barley crops in the outer fields. The biggest girls milk the cows, morning and night, and keep the barns clean. Old Nikolay mends ploughs, horse harnesses, pitchforks and scythes in his workshop. Anna Pushinka teaches Yelena and her friends how to get the honey from the beehives that are scattered through the orchards. I am in charge of collecting eggs. My friends Olga and Nina help. Olga and Nina are five, a year younger than me. They are twins and look exactly alike, except Ninaâs nose is a little bit crooked from when she fell out of bed and squashed it sideways on the floor. The hens, ducks and geese wander free in the summer, so collecting eggs is like a treasure hunt and takes hours. Catching the hens for their daily hugs takes even longer, but I think itâs important because hugs make everyone happy and happy hens lay bigger eggs. Olga says Iâm the best hen-hugger in all of Russia. Nina says Iâll be the best cow-hugger, too, when my arms grow longer. But good hugs have nothing to do with the size of your arms. Itâs all to do with the size of your heart. When we are done with the hens, Olga, Nina and I can spend the rest of the day doing whatever we like. We climb the apricot trees, chase squirrels, lie in the meadow marvelling at how hot Ushankaâs black fur becomes in the sunshine, make daisy chains and race little boats of bark in the stream. I teach Olga and Nina the alphabet and we use charcoal to write our letters and our names all over the village â on doors and walls and the freshly cut ends of firewood. In between, I practise my knots. In case the German princemonsters return. I slip into Old Nikolayâs workshop and tie knots in the harnesses hanging on the walls. I wander into gardens where the washing is hung out to dry and tie knots in the laces on pants and smocks. I creep up behind Anna Pushinka and tie knots in her apron strings. I find baling twine in the hay shed and tie my own ankles together. I do such a good job of these last knots that I canât get them undone. I have to jump all the way to Olga and Ninaâs house and ask them to cut me free with their mamaâs knife. At the end of each day, Ushanka and I run out into the distant barley fields to meet Mama. This is my favourite part of the day, because Mama always shouts, âLittle Rabbit!â and smothers my head with kisses. And as we walk home, we sing. Everyone â women, big boys and me. I love to sing. Almost as much as I love to be kissed by Mama. Sometimes one of the boys, Mikhail, has his balalaika with him. He takes the instrument out from beneath the sheaves of barley piled high on the wagon and plays music. We sing about forests and orchards and people who find their true love. As we walk home, arm in arm, my heart fills with happiness and my belly swells with pride that I am allowed to sing along with the big boys. And I can almost forget about the German prince-monsters and their lies about Russia and their big ugly boots. Almost. But today, when Mikhail reaches for his balalaika, I see other things hiding beneath the barley sheaves. Three of the mamas rush forward and cover them up, but itâs too late. I know they are there. Iâve already seen them. Rifles. Lots of rifles. Mikhail hugs his balalaika to his chest and blushes. âSo play!â cries Mama, her voice oddly loud and high. âLetâs play Sashaâs favourite song, âThe Little Birch Treeâ.â So Mikhail plays and everyone sings about the lovely birch tree with its curly leaves and the branches that will be turned into silver flutes. They sing too quickly, too loudly, and as they sing and walk, they cast nervous sideways glances at me. âItâs alright,â I say, when the song comes to an end. âI didnât see the rifles.â Mama nods and smiles, and I know it was the right thing to say. But I did see the rifles. And I think about Yelena wanting to get lots of guns and dynamite for the Partisans so they can shoot the Germans and blow them into thousands of tiny pieces, and Mama looking as though she agreed, and I know this is what the mamas and the big boys are doing. As well as harvesting, they are helping the Partisans. Three days later, I wake before dawn and I am all alone. Yelena is always here beside me when I wake. But not this morning. I climb down from our bed above the stove. Mama is filling a cloth sack with bread. She ties it closed with a piece of string and hands it to Yelena. âStay out of sight,â says Mama. âAnd donât return until after dark.â âWhereâs she going?â I ask. âNowhere,â snaps Mama. âThen why does she need all that bread?â I ask. âThereâs nothing left for us.â Mama baked four loaves last night and she has stuffed them all into the sack. Yelena opens her mouth, but before she can speak, Mama shoves her out the door and sends her on the way to nowhere. Mama turns and stares at me, her blue, blue cornflower eyes wide with worry. âI know,â I say, flopping down on the bench. âI didnât see any bread.â Mama sits beside me and takes my hand. âAnd . . .?â she prods, obviously waiting for more. I puzzle for a while, then say, âAnd I donât have a sister called Yelena.â Mama laughs, softly and with a little bit of sadness around the edges. âSweet Little Rabbit! You do have a sister called Yelena.â âI do?â I ask, now confused. âI havenât seen the rifles or the bread, but I have seen Yelena?â âYes.â Mama smiles and the magic makes me smile, too. And I am glad that Yelena is real because I love her very much. âYelena is real,â Mama explains, âbut she does not carry sacks of bread into the forest for the Partisans.â âOf course not!â I shout, slapping my forehead. âBecause there is no bread!â Mama laughs loudly now, with not a hint of sadness. She hugs me, pressing me against her warm, loving heart, covering my head with kisses. âClever Little Rabbit,â she murmurs, and then, in barely a whisper, âYour papa would be so proud.â When I wake the next morning, Yelena is sleeping beside me, her mouth open, her braided hair unravelling. Mama is serving kasha to a strange woman seated at our table. I crawl down from above the stove and slide along the bench beside her. I stare at her pants, her tunic, the rope she is using as a belt and her big boots. Sheâs dressed like a man! And thereâs a rifle leaning against the wall near the door. âHello,â I say. âIâm Sasha.â The woman doesnât reply. She just shovels down her kasha. I line my four wooden bears along the table in front of her bowl and say, âThese are my bears: Big Bear, Medium Bear, Little Bear and Even Littler Bear.â âHello, Sasha. Hello, bears.â She smiles but she doesnât tell me her name. âWhy are you dressed like a man?â I ask, tugging at the sleeve of her tunic. âBecause menâs clothes make it easier to run and climb and crawl and shoot,â she says. âYouâre a Partisan!â I gasp. âBut sheâs not real,â says Mama, placing a bowl of kasha before me. âIs the kasha real?â I ask. Mama laughs. âYes, Little Rabbit.â Iâm glad the food is real, because Iâm hungry. But Iâm disappointed that the woman is not real. I was going to ask if I could use her rope-belt to tie her ankles together. For practice. But if sheâs not real, then the rope and her ankles arenât either. The woman finishes her kasha, hangs her rifle over her shoulder, kisses Mama on the cheek then slips out the door. I run to the window to watch her leave, but by the time I get there, sheâs gone. Vanished. âBecause sheâs not real,â I whisper. A week later, Mama and I are working in the garden. We sing as we weed between the flowers and pluck caterpillars from the vegetables. Anna Pushinka is picking strawberries in her garden and wanders over. âTaste these,â she says, holding out the basket. Mama reaches in and takes out a fat strawberry and a tiny piece of folded paper. The strawberry goes into her mouth, the paper into her pocket. âWhatâs on the paper?â I ask. âPaper?â Anna Pushinka replies with a wave of her hand. âGoodness, Sasha! Who has money for paper? These are lean times. We must choose between paper for writing and noodles for our soup. And I always choose noodles.â She chuckles and I know the paper is yet another thing that is not real. That night, Mama slips the paper to Yelena, but she drops it on the floor. I pick it up for her, and I see that there are tiny words and numbers written all over it. I wish I could read better. Iâm desperate to know what it says. Or rather, what it doesnât say, because itâs not real. Later, when Mama has tucked us into our bed above the stove and Ushanka has wrapped herself around the top of my head, I ask Yelena, âWhatâs on the paper?â âWhat paper?â says Yelena. âThe paper that isnât real,â I reply. Yelena stares at me, nibbling her lip, then whispers, âA message for the Partisans. Stuff about where the Germans have their headquarters and when their trains are travelling and where they store their ammunition.â âWhy?â âSo the Partisans can blow them up.â Yelena grabs my arm. âBut donât tell anyone. Itâs a secret.â âWhatâs a secret?â I ask. âThe message.â âWhat message?â I say, my eyes wide. Yelena laughs. âGood boy, Sasha.â My belly swells with pride. I know how to play this game. âHow are your knots coming along?â asks Yelena. âGood! Yesterday, I crept into the dairy and tied knots in the apron strings of all the girls who were milking and only one of them noticed. Today, I tied Olgaâs ankles together with Mamaâs embroidery thread and just now, while you were taking a bath, I tied the sleeves of your blouse together in an enormous knot.â Yelena rolls her eyes, then says, âIâll see if I can find you some rope for practising.â âPractising what?â I ask. âYour knots,â she says. âWhat knots?â Yelena, my big sister who is twelve and always serious t
Got it â
â you want all the topics (States of Matter â Temperature â Thermal Energy â Pressure â Gas Laws, etc.) written in the same structured style (definitions, everyday examples, non-examples, short story, daily life connections, MCQs, SAQs). Hereâs a full structured lesson flow, starting with States of Matter as you requested: --- đ§ States of Matter Definition Matter exists in three main states: Solid: Definite shape & volume, particles tightly packed, vibrate in place. Liquid: Definite volume but takes the shape of its container, particles slide past one another. Gas: No definite shape or volume, particles move freely and spread out. Everyday Examples Solid: Ice cubes, table, book. Liquid: Water, milk, juice. Gas: Air in a balloon, perfume spreading, steam. Non-Examples Honey is not a solid â it flows â liquid. A rock is not a liquid â itâs rigid â solid. Water in a closed bottle is not a gas â it stays liquid. Short Story You buy a soda on a hot day: Ice cubes (solid) keep it cold. They melt into liquid water. Bubbles rise as gas carbon dioxide escapes. Everyday Life Connections Freezing water into ice. Boiling soup on the stove. Smell of perfume spreading across a room. MCQs 1. Which state has particles vibrating in place? a) Solid â
b) Liquid c) Gas d) Plasma 2. Soda fizzing when opened is: a) Liquid diffusion b) Gas release â
c) Solid melting d) Condensation SAQ (Multi-step) You leave an ice cream outside: a) What state does it start in? b) What happens as it melts? c) If left longer, what phase change might occur? d) Which type of energy increases? --- đĄ Temperature Definition Indicates average kinetic energy of particles. Measured with a thermometer. Heat flows between objects of different temperature. Everyday Examples Fever check with a thermometer. Ice cube cooling a drink. Why metal feels colder than wood at room temperature. Short Story A hot pizza slice cools when left on the table: heat flows from pizza (high T) to air (low T). MCQ Which is true about temperature? a) It measures total energy b) It measures average kinetic energy â
c) It is the same as heat d) It doesnât affect particle motion --- đĽ Thermal Energy Definition Total of all kinetic and potential energy of atoms in an object. Everyday Examples Large pot of warm soup has more thermal energy than a small hot cup. Heating water â particles move faster. Ice pack absorbs thermal energy from skin. Short Story In winter, sitting near a heater warms you up because air molecules gain kinetic energy and transfer it. MCQ At absolute zero: a) Particles vibrate slowly b) Particles move randomly c) Particles have no movement â
d) Particles expand --- ⥠Kinetic vs Potential Energy Definition Kinetic energy: energy of motion (vibrating, flowing, diffusing). Potential energy: stored in positions/forces (attractions between particles). Everyday Examples Steam in cooker: high kinetic energy. Rubber band stretched: potential energy. Short Story A bouncing ball â kinetic while moving, potential at the top of its bounce. --- đ¨ Pressure Definition Force per unit area on a surface. Everyday Examples Drinking with a straw. Bicycle tires feel hard due to air pressure. Bed of nails â force spread out, less pressure. Short Story When you open a soda bottle, pressure is released â fizzing sound and bubbles. --- đ Gas Laws (Thermal Expansion & Charlesâ Law) Definition At constant pressure, gas volume â absolute temperature. Everyday Examples Balloon expands in sunlight. Hot air balloon rises. Tires inflate slightly after driving. Short Story A sealed chips bag puffs up on an airplane as air pressure outside decreases. MCQ According to Charlesâ Law: a) Volume decreases as temperature increases b) Volume increases as temperature increases â
c) Volume is independent of temperature d) Volume and temperature are unrelated --- â
This flow covers all your slides in the same Prezi-style (definitions, examples, non-examples, story, life connections, questions). Do you want me to now add full sets of practice (10 True/False, 10 Matching, 10 Write the Term, etc.) for each section, so youâll have a complete question bank along with the lesson flow?
The Revolt of the Northern Earls (1569) Most people in the North remained loyal to the Catholic noble families who controlled the north and their Catholic faith. When Elizabeth came to power, she promoted ânew menâ (Protestants) from the gentry and the powerful Catholic nobles lost their power and influence. This led them to organise the most serious rebellion of Elizabethâs reign in 1569. Why did the Northern Earlâs revolt? The Earls had lost their power when Elizabeth became Queen (and wanted it back). They wanted Catholicism restored in England (and felt that ordinary Catholics would support it). Elizabeth was refusing to marry or to name an heir, causing uncertainty about Englandâs future. Mary Queen of Scots (if freed from prison) could replace Elizabeth and solve all these problems Who were the key players in the Revolt? Earl of Northumberland ⢠A Catholic who had held an important position under Mary I. ⢠He lost a lot of influence under Elizabeth (as she favoured Protestant gentry) ⢠Elizabeth also took the rights to a valuable copper mine found on his lands Earl of Westmorland ⢠From a rich Catholic family in the north Also the Duke of Norfolkâs brother in law Duke of Norfolk ⢠Englandâs most senior Protestant noble, but he had very close links to old northern Catholic families, & was sympathetic to them & greedy for power. ⢠He hated William Cecil & Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester (Elizabethâs favourite) who were Protestant and from the gentry ⢠He planned to marry Mary QS, but later backed down and urged the earls to call off the rebellion. Mary also supported the plan to marry him What role did religion play? (7/10 â but only because it was linked to power) ⢠Most northerners held onto their Catholic beliefs & although Elizabeth didnât persecute them, they knew that she wanted their religion to gradually die out, so they supported the revolt. ⢠In 1561 Elizabeth hired a strict Protestant as archbishop of Durham to promote Protestantism in the north, but he was unpopular & turned many northerners against the Protestant religion. What role did politics/power play? (9/10 â this was the most important cause of the revolt) ⢠The Northern Earls lost a lot of their power/influence (even jobs/money under Elizabeth) ⢠Northumberland was jealous of new Protestant families being given top jobs in the North ⢠William Cecil & Robert Dudley were not from ancient noble families, but were very close to the Queen, so the northern Earls resented them getting top jobs in her Government ⢠Elizabeth also confiscated large areas of land & the profits from their copper mines ⢠It is possible, that had Elizabeth allowed the Catholic Northern Earls to keep their jobs, money and influence at court, they may have âtoleratedâ her as a Protestant Queen (greedy/selfish). What role did Mary Queen of Scots and the Succession play? ⢠Elizabeth was refusing to name an heir and it was becoming clear that she would not marry ⢠If Mary Queen of Scots married the Duke of Norfolk, England would have an heir and England would be Catholic again. The country would be stable without people competing for power. ⢠However, some of Elizabethâs courtiers got worried that it might not work and that it might lead to charges of treason (punishable by death) ⢠So by September 1569, Robert Dudley (Earl of Leicester) decided to tell Elizabeth about the plot. By this time it was much more serious than simply marrying Norfolk to Mary. ⢠Mary QS had secretly asked Spain to send troops to help the rebellion & overthrow Elizabeth Plan for the Revolt of the Northern Earls (1569) ⢠The Earls of Northumberland & Westmorland will raise rebel troops from their lands in the north and take control of Durham. ⢠The rebels will then march south towards London to join with the Duke of Norfolk ⢠1000s of Spanish troops will land in England to support the rebel forces ⢠The Duke of Norfolk & rebel forces will seize control of Government & overthrow Elizabeth ⢠Mary Queen of Scots is to be freed, ready to marry the Duke of Norfolk Key Events of the Revolt ⢠Once Elizabeth knew of the plot, Norfolk was arrested and sent to the Tower of London ⢠The Northern Earls were worried they would be executed for their involvement and in a desperate attempt to avoid punishment, pushed ahead with the revolt ⢠They raised an army of ordinary Catholics and took control of Durham cathedral ⢠Catholic mass was celebrated across the north for 2 weeks. ⢠They then headed south, to try and free Mary ⢠Mary QSs was moved south to Coventry on the orders of Elizabeth, so she couldnât escape ⢠The rebellion failed as Spanish troops never arrived ⢠Elizabethâs friend (Earl of Sussex) had raised an army of 7,000 men to defend her throne. Results: ⢠The rebellion was a serious threat to Elizabeth ⢠She executed 450 rebels in the north ⢠Northumberland was executed in 1572 & his head was put on a spike on the city gate ⢠The Privy Council called for the Duke of Norfolkâs execution too, but Elizabeth released him. ⢠Mary Queen of Scots was kept in prison for the next 14 years. ⢠The failed plot also led the Pope to take action against Elizabeth ⢠In 1570 he excommunicated Elizabeth from the Catholic Church ⢠He also issued a Papal Bull (order) calling on all loyal Catholics to overthrow her hoping it would encourage another rebellion. ⢠In 1571 Elizabeth called parliament to pass an Act making it treason to claim that she was not the rightful Queen and to bring in/print papal bulls in England. The Significance of the Revolt of the Northern Earls ⢠It was the first and most serious rebellion by English Catholics against Elizabeth ⢠Treason laws were made much harsher ⢠It ended the influence of the powerful Catholic Earls in the North ⢠It led to harsher treatment of Catholics, e.g. 1572 Elizabeth sent the Earl of Huntingdon (strict Protestant) to the north to carry out laws against Catholics (and suppress Catholicism). ⢠Although Elizabethâs brutal revenge on the rebels show how serious a threat it was, most Catholics in the north stayed loyal, but the Popeâs Papal Bull now put their loyalty in doubt There was little support for the revolt among the rest of the Catholic nobility and ordinary people. When faced with a choice between Elizabeth and their religion, most Catholics chose to support the Queen. 1569, was the last time English Catholics tried to remove Elizabeth by force. The future plots against her were always uncovered by Cecil & Walsingham, before they had a chance to get any public support. Despite this, the Northern Revolt & Papal Bull changed Elizabethâs attitude towards Catholics who were now seen as potential traitors. From 1570, Elizabeth became less tolerant of recusants (people refusing to attend her church) & took increasingly tough measures against Catholics. The Ridolfi, Throckmorton & Babington plots ⢠In the 1870s-80s, there were 3 Catholic plots to assassinate Elizabeth & replace her with Mary. ⢠The plots were supported by France, Spain, the Pope and some Catholic nobles. ⢠They reinforced the form Mary & from Catholics at home and abroad. Also the threat from Spain. The Ridolfi Plot (1571) ⢠Ridolfi was an Italian banker living in England and a spy for the Pope. ⢠He organised a plot to murder Eliz, marry Mary QS to the Duke of Norfolk & make her Queen. ⢠The Pope & King Philip supported the plot & Philip told the Duke of Alba in the Netherlands to prepare 10,000 troops (but to only invade AFTER the English had overthrown Elizabeth). ⢠The plot failed because Sir William Cecil intercepted coded letters & Norfolk was executed. ⢠Mary was kept under closer watch. ⢠Ridolfi was abroad when the plot was discovered and never returned to England. 1574: Catholic Priests and Priest Holes ⢠From 1574 Catholic priests were smuggled into England to keep the religion alive. ⢠They stayed with rich Catholic families, so Catholic families were kept under surveillance. ⢠Catholic homes were raided â to find âpriest holesâ where Catholic priests were hiding. ⢠Catholic priests who were found could be hung, drawn and quartered (although not all were) ⢠In 1581, Parliament also passed 2 new tougher laws against Catholics: ⢠Recusants would be fined ÂŁ20 (which would bankrupt most families) ⢠Trying to convert people to Catholicism was now treason (punishable by death) The Throckmorton Plot (1583) ⢠It aimed to assassinate Elizabeth and replace her with Mary. The French Duke of Guise (Maryâs cousin) would invade England with an army, funded by King Philip (Pope also supported it). ⢠An Englishman, Throckmorton carried messages between Mary & Catholic plotters abroad. ⢠Sir Walsingham (Secretary of State) uncovered the plot after his agents found the plans for the plot in Throckmortonâs house. Throckmorton confessed under torture and was executed. Significance: ⢠The plots showed that Maryâs presence in England posed a serious threat ⢠It also showed that France & Spain were a serious threat (& could invade) ⢠Throckmortonâs papers showed a list of Catholic supporters in England, so the threat from English Catholics was also real ⢠1,000s of Catholics were imprisoned or kept under surveillance/house arrest ⢠In 1585 another Act was passed to make helping Catholic priests punishable by death. ⢠The Bond of Association was signed by the English nobles & gentry & forced them to promise to execute anyone who tried to overthrow the Queen. Weaknesses of the Plots The plots lacked public support & were uncovered by informers & spies before they had the chance to work King Philip was reluctant to destroy his alliance with Elizabeth (France was still a bigger rival) so is support for the plots was half-hearted, he rarely followed through on his promises to help the plotters or send an army The Babington Plot (1586) In 1586, Walsingham used his spy network to PROVE that Mary supported the Babington plot. His evidence persuaded Elizabeth to put Mary on trial & execute her for treason. ⢠This was a plot to murder Elizabeth and put Mary on the throne ⢠France would invade England with 60,000 men and Spain would also send an army ⢠Babington was passing coded letters between Mary & her supporters in England & Europe. ⢠But all of her letters were being intercepted and read by Walsingham. ⢠Walsingham used his spies to follow every stage of the plot & had the letters decoded ⢠One of Maryâs letters approved plans to murder the Queen and free Mary from prison ⢠They also contained the names of 6 Catholics who planned to kill Elizabeth ⢠They were arrested, hung, drawn and quartered for treason. ⢠Mary had been implicated in plots before, but Elizabeth was always reluctant to execute her ⢠But the proof found by Walsingham finally persuaded her to put Mary on trial ⢠In October 1586, Mary was found guilty & was sentenced to death ⢠But Elizabeth still hesitated, and did not sign the death warrant until February 1587. Significance 1) This plot was very significant because by 1585 England was effectively at war with Spain since Elizabeth had sent her army to help the Dutch Protestants fight the Spanish 2) This meant that Elizabethâ situation was more dangerous than during previous plots. 3) Elizabethâs government also became more determined to crush Catholicism 4) 1000s of recusants were arrested & 31 priests were executed 5) Maryâs execution removed the Catholic threat at home 6) English Catholics had no one to rally around, & lost hope of overthrowing Elizabeth 7) But Maryâs death increased the threat of a foreign invasion as England was at war with Spain and King Philip had been preparing an attack on England since 1585 8) Maryâs death made Philip even more determined to invade, Mary had left her claim to the English throne to King Philip upon her death Why was Mary Queen of Scots finally executed? 1 ⢠A new Act in 1585 stated that in the event of Elizabethâs assassination, Mary could be executed as long as she had been proved guilty & Walsingham had provided hard proof. 2 ⢠Another reason was that by 1587, it was clear that Philip was planning to invade England ⢠There were rumours that Spanish ships had landed in Wales & that Mary had escaped. This convinced Elizabeth that Mary had to be executed if she wanted to keep her throne. Walsinghamâs Spy Network: ⢠Walsingham (Secretary of State from 1573) had a network of spies all over England & abroad. He had spies in every English town, some were normal people paid to spy on neighbours. ⢠He also had agents and spies in Spain, France, Germany and Italy ⢠He hired mathematicians to crack written codes and people to open/seal letters secretly ⢠He also pressured captured Catholic priests to spy on others for him in return for a pardon. ⢠He used double agents to infiltrate Catholic networks - to help him discover traitors ⢠But he only used torture against Catholic priests caught in England in the most serious cases ⢠But 130 priests and 60 of their supporters were still executed during Elizabethâs reign. Why did Relations with Spain get worse (1569-1588) ⢠England had tried to stay on good terms with Spain, because Eliz wanted to avoid an expensive war that could lead to her being overthrown (English Catholics could support it) ⢠But by the 1570s, Elizabeth wanted to have an empire of her own. ⢠She also needed to make more money to defend her country and throne (by improving trade) ⢠This religious, political and economic rivalry led to growing tensions between England & Spain Political and Religious Rivalry 1) Land abroad, gave countries wealth/power. By the 1580s, Eliz wanted an empire to rival Spainâs (especially as Spain had supported the Catholic plots against Eliz â even if it was half-hearted) 2) Religion was another cause of conflict. Philip opposed Elizabethâs religious settlement 1559 3) Luckily for Elizabeth, in the 1550s Spain & France were competing to be the greatest European power and both wanted England as an ally against the other. 4) But from 1567, Spanish ships were sailing to the Netherlands with money for the Albaâs army 5) This alarmed English Protestants and Elizabethâs Privy Council who put more and more pressure on her to send an army to help the Dutch Protestant rebels (in the Netherlands). Economic (commercial) Rivalry: The New World, privateers and Sir Francis Drake ⢠Under Elizabeth, English merchants wanted to make big profits in the New World (Americas). ⢠However, trading in the New World was difficult because of Spainâs power 1) Spain controlled most of the New World where there were huge profits to be made and anyone who wanted to trade there needed a licence from Spain (which it would not give): 2) But the Americas had valuable crops like tobacco, sugar, and also silver and gold 3) Elizabeth secretly encouraged privateers to trade illegally & raid Spanish ports & ships 4) At first Elizabeth denied responsibility for their actions, which delaye war with Spain Sir Francis Drake: Elizabeth sends Drake to rob Spanish colonies and ships (which infuriates Spain) 1) Spainâs support for the Ridolfi plot (1571) made her more willing to support Drake ⢠In 1572 Eliz hired Drake to sail to the New World & steal ÂŁ40,000 of Spanish silver ⢠In 1577 she sent Drake back again with a secret mission to rob Spainâs colonies/ships ⢠Drake brought back ÂŁ400,000 of Spanish treasure & claimed an area of California in Elizabethâs name (New Albion). He gave a lot of this money to Elizabeth ⢠He boosted Englandâs finances at a time of growing concern over Spainâs threat ⢠He became famous as the first Englishman to circumnavigate the globe. ⢠Eliz knighted Drake as a reward, which infuriated Philip (as he saw Drake as a pirate) ⢠Drakeâs actions & his claim to California made it clear that England did not accept Spainâs domination of the New World. Elizabethâs Support for the Dutch Rebels led to War with Spain (1585-88) ⢠By the 1580s, tension between England & Spain had reached boiling point ⢠At first, Eliz refused to send her army to help the Dutch rebels, because she wanted to avoid a war with Spain. So she tried to get the Spanish to leave the Netherlands in other INDIRECT ways: 1) By allowing Drake (& other English privateers) to attack and rob Spanish ships and colonies 2) By encouraging others (the French heir/mercenaries) to fight the Spanish in the Netherlands ⢠In the 1570s, Elizabeth promised to marry the heir to the French throne (the Duke of Alencon) so that he would take an army to fight the Spanish in the Netherlands The Spanish Fury (1576) and the Pacification of Ghent (1576) ⢠By 1576, the Spanish Govt in the Netherlands was bankrupt (the war was expensive) ⢠After months without pay, Spainâs soldiers violently robbed Dutch towns in the âSpanish Furyâ Spanish troops rebelling and robbing cities in the Netherlands in 1576. This united the Dutch Protestants & Catholics against Spain. They drew up the âPacification of Ghentâ (demanding that): ⢠Spanish troops leave the Netherlands ⢠Spain allows the Dutch to rule themselves ⢠The persecution of Dutch Protestants stops What did Elizabeth do? ⢠Elizabeth sent ÂŁ100,000 to help the Dutch rebels ⢠In 1577 King Philipâs brother, Don Juan agreed to the rebels demands (but this was a trick) as just 6 months later Philip sent an even bigger army to attack the Dutch. ⢠Elizabeth then hired a mercenary army of 6000 English & Scottish volunteers to help the Dutch. ⢠But her plan backfired because the mercenaries destroyed Dutch Catholic churches, which caused the Catholics to make peace with Spain. ⢠In 1578, her Privy Council urged Eliz to send her official army to help the Dutch, but she refused. The Dutch were disappointed & turned to France for help. The French Duke of Alencon arrived with an army to fight the Spanish, but by 1579 Spain had taken control again. ⢠In 1580 Spain got even stronger after Philip won control of Portugal & its empire. ⢠So Elizabeth gave the Duke of Alencon ÂŁ70,000 to help him fight the Spanish ⢠In 1582, Alencon took his army the Netherlands but failed to defeat Spain. ⢠Elizabethâs foreign policy in the Netherlands had failed & she had only managed to annoy Spain 1585: Why did Eliz finally decide to send her army to the Netherlands? (she lost her 2 main allies) ⢠1584 the Duke of Alencon died (so he could no longer fight the Spanish in the Netherlands) ⢠1 month later, William of Orange, the leader of the Dutch Protestant rebels was assassinated. ⢠In 1585, Spain signed the Treaty of Joinville with France, agreeing to stamp out Protestantism in France/Europe meaning France & Spain were now allies against Protestantism ⢠Elizabeth now felt she had no choice but to send her official army to the Netherlands ⢠She signed the Treaty of Nonsuch with the Dutch rebels which promised them military help 1585: Robert Dudleyâs campaign in the Netherlands was unsuccessful She sent 7,400 man army to the Netherlands led by Dudley. But he accepted the title of âGovernor Generalâ. Eliz was angry as it suggested that she had deposed King Philip so she told Dudley to resign this position. His army was defeated by the bigger Spanish Army as Eliz had not provided him with enough money to win. In 1587 Dudley resigned and returned to England. At the same time, Eliz had sent Drake to raid Spanish colonies in the New World to disrupt King Philipâs flow of money. Philip was furious and told the Pope he planned to invade England at the end of 1585. Drake singes the King of Spainâs beard 1587 ⢠In 1587 Elizabeth ordered Drake to attack Spainâs most important port Cadiz ⢠He destroyed 30 ships in 3 days â known as the âSingeing of the King of Spainâs Beardâ ⢠He also stole lots of wood, meaning the Armada did not have quality barrels for food/water ⢠Drakeâs disruption delayed the Armada by a year (& meant that its food rotted in 1588). ⢠This bought England more time to prepare for war. The Spanish Armada (1588) The Plan ⢠By 1588, the Spanish Armada was ready to invade England ⢠It had 130 ships with 8000 sailors & 18,000 soldiers ⢠The Duke of Medina Sidonia would lead the Armada, but he had little experience at sea and didnât want the job ⢠The Armada would collect Parmaâs army from France & sail to England under the protection of the Armadaâs warships ⢠Parma would march to London to depose Elizabeth & impose a Catholic government in England. 1) The Armada reached the English Channel The Armada set out in May 1588, but was delayed for a few weeks by bad weather In July the Armada was near England & signal fires were lit to warn Elizabeth English ships set sail to meet the Armada The Armada sailed up the channel in a crescent (half moon) formation, to use the large armed galleons to protect the weaker supply and army ships The English navy carried out a few minor raids, but did not inflict much damage Only 2 Spanish ships were lost (by accident) 2) The English attack the Spanish at Calais (with fire ships) and at Gravelines The Armada sailed up the English channel & anchored at Calais to wait for Parmaâs army But Parmaâs men didn't reach the coast in time (news had reached them too late) At midnight, the English sent 8 fireships into the Spanish ships causing panic They cut their anchors, broke formation & headed for the open sea (without Parma) The Spanish ships sailed to Gravelines, but bad weather stopped them returning to Calais The English attacked and the battle lasted many hours (5 Spanish ships were sunk) The rest were forced to sail away from France towards Scotland The English ships followed them to make sure they didnât come back to collect Parmaâs army 3) The Armadaâs Journey back to Spain around Ireland was a disaster The Spanish called off the attack and returned to Spain around Scotland & Ireland Bad storms sank many ships and wrecked more on the Irish coast Many sailors died from starvation & disease â less than half the men made it back to Spain How did England defeat the Spanish Armada? !) Faster Ships ⢠Years before the battle, England had started building smaller, faster ships (galleons) that could fire canon balls quicker & further than Spanish ships ⢠Spanish ships were huge and slow to change direction. 2) Bad Planning & Communication (Spanish) ⢠Philipâs plan to join with the Duke of Parmaâs army in France was risky. ⢠Parma had lots of small ships which took 48 hours to load, man and set sail. ⢠It took too long (a week) for word to reach Parma that Medina was in the English Channel, by which time Medina had set sail to Calais. ⢠Parma was not ready to set sail & the English were already ready to attack (leaving Medina with very little back up when anchored in France). 2) English Tactics were more effective ⢠Spanish ships aimed to come alongside the English ones, jump on board & fight the enemy. But the English ships were faster & kept a safe distance. ⢠They chased the Armada down the Channel, with heavy cannon fire, which forced the Spanish to arrive in France before Parmaâs army was ready ⢠As the Armada was waiting, the English sent fireships into the Spanish fleet. ⢠This caused the Armada to panic, cut their anchors & sail away to the north ⢠When the Spanish ships regrouped, the English attacked them in the Battle of Gravelines & the Armada was forced to sail north, chased by faster ships. 5) Bad Weather ⢠Strong winds made it impossible for the Armada to return & pick up Parmaâs army and storms wrecked or sunk Spanish ships as they tried to return home along the Scottish-Irish coasts. 2) Spanish Supplies ⢠The Armada was not well supplied with food/weapons. Drakeâs attack on Cadiz port in 1587 had destroyed food barrels. Delays in setting sail meant that by the time the English attacked the Armada it had been at sea for 10 weeks and had rotting food. 1000s died from starvation/disease. The consequences of the English victory? ⢠Victory over the Spanish Armada gave Elizabeth a great propaganda victory ⢠A new portrait was made, and a medal was made to commemorate her victory, it said âGod blew and they were scatteredâ. ⢠Elizabeth claimed that God was on the side of Protestantism ⢠This led to a feeling of English pride and encouraged the Dutch rebels to renew their fight against the Spanish ⢠The defeat of the Armada showed the strength of the English navy and gave England the confidence to trade and explore more widely at sea ⢠Although Philip did not give up and continued the war for the rest of Elizabethâs reign, the defeat had cost Spain dearly, both financially and in terms of its power ⢠The Armada marked the start of a long decline in Spainâs power and fortunes. ⢠English ships were sent on voyages of discovery and set up valuable new trade routes ⢠By the end of Elizabethâs reign, the navy was also trying to set up a new colony in Virginia ⢠The English victory boosted Elizabethâs popularity & strengthened the Protestant cause
Phrasal Verb Quiz Instructions: Choose the best meaning for the bold phrasal verb in each sentence. She looked up a word in the dictionary. A) To stare at something B) To find information in a book or online C) To write a new word She looked up at the sky. A) To raise your eyes to see something above B) To search for a specific star C) To feel happy He always tries to get out of doing his chores. A) To leave the house B) To finish work quickly C) To avoid doing something you don't want to do Why didnât you call me back last night? A) To shout at someone B) To return a phone call C) To remember a name She was bored at the party, so she took off. A) To start dancing B) To leave suddenly C) To remove her coat I canât figure out the answer to this question. A) To understand or solve something B) To draw a picture C) To forget a fact I am free on Sunday. Do you want to come over? A) To go to a store B) To visit someoneâs house C) To call someone on the phone He had to make up a story about a dragon and a princess. A) To read a book aloud B) To invent or create a story C) To fix a mistake After three years in college, she suddenly dropped out. A) To graduate with honors B) To stop attending school before finishing C) To fall down the stairs My manager handed out the reports during the meeting. A) To give something to many people in a group B) To throw something away C) To write a report by hand I had to fill out a form. A) To complete a document by writing information B) To make something bigger C) To throw a paper in the trash I ran into some old friends yesterday. A) To race against someone B) To meet someone by chance (unexpectedly) C) To call someone on purpose We will pick up our parents from the airport tonight. A) To lift something heavy B) To collect someone in a car C) To say goodbye When are you going to give up smoking? A) To start a new habit B) To stop doing something C) To buy something expensive My teacher crossed out my mistakes with a red pen. A) To draw a line through something B) To highlight something important C) To give a good grade I should go over my notes before my presentation. A) To lose your papers B) To review or check something carefully C) To write new notes