The Walk The bright beautiful light of the suns flashes across the world as I open the door. I feel great, the sun is shining, the air smells just as good as a neighborhood Barbeque. I know it’s going to be a good day. I begin to walk but at a slow pace, it’s such a beautiful day out that I want to observe and take in all that nature has to offer for the day. The sun is feeling amazing as a warm blanket on a cold day, I begin to hear the water of the fountain falling back into the river where it came out of.
As I continue walking I start to see a group of small ducklings waddling around following their prominent and confident mother. As the mother moves to a different area, one by one the duckling follow her, it’s a special sight to see that never fails to bring a smile to my face. Once I pass them I begin to come up towards the fountain and as I get closer I begin to feel the cool mist of the water hit my skin, refreshing me as I’m continuing to walk through. I hear a splash in the water, I turn my head and all I see are ripples flowing through the water. I know it’s a fish and I begin to picture how big, what color, and how shiny it is when the sun
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How much easier and less stressful life would be. People would be able to relax most of the time. I remember that whenever I got my grandparents’ house in Virginia, it instantly feels like home. It’s not only because I’m with family it’s also because the people around the town are some of the friendliest people I’ve ever met. Everyone there is so open and there always someone who goes out there way to say hi even if they don’t know who you are. I remember one of my grandpa’s friend yelled across the parking lot to just to say hi. Down there the door is always open too, my grandparent 's friends stop by all the time to just chat. If you ever go down there for the first time you would think that everyone in the town knows each
The story opens by embracing the reader with a relaxed setting, giving the anticipation for an optimistic story. “…with the fresh warmth of a full summer day; the flowers were blossoming profusely and the grass was richly green (p.445).”
The water was calm, like the morning; both were starting to get ready for the day ahead. The silent water signals that although rough times occurred previously, the new day was a new start for the world. As I went closer to the water, I heard the subtle lapping of the water against the small rocks on the shore. Every sign of nature signals a change in life; no matter how slight, a change is significant. We can learn a lot from nature: whatever happens in the natural world, change comes and starts a new occurrence. I gazed over the water to where the sky met the sea. The body of water seemed to be endless under the clear blue sky. The scope of nature shows endless possibilities. Nature impresses us with the brilliant colors of the sky, the leaves, the water. She keeps us all in our places and warns us when we are careless with her. After all the leaves have fallen from the trees, she will offer us the first snows of the year to coat the earth with a tranquil covering. That will only be after we have recognized the lessons of autumn, the gradual change from warm to cold, rain to snow, summer to winter.
Naples is a very unique city that attracts people from all over the world to its beautiful surroundings. Amongst the pristine beaches and championship golf courses, a teenager can find many entertaining locations. One such area can be found in downtown Naples on Fifth Avenue. Along this stretch of road near the beach lies a vast array of shops, cafes, restaurants, and other establishments. I often find myself spending many nights on Fifth Avenue, walking along the tree-lined streets or sitting in one of the numerous cafés or restaurants.
As the first rays of the sun peak over the horizon, penetrating the dark, soft light illuminates the mist rising up from the ground, forming an eerie, almost surreal landscape. The ground sparkles, wet with dew, and while walking from the truck to the barn, my riding boots soak it in. The crickets still chirp, only slower now. They know that daytime fast approaches. Sounds, the soft rustling of hooves, a snort, and from far down the aisle a sharp whinny that begs for breakfast, inform me that the crickets are not the only ones preparing for the day.
Standing on the balcony, I gazed at the darkened and starry sky above. Silence surrounded me as I took a glimpse at the deserted park before me. Memories bombarded my mind. As a young girl, the park was my favourite place to go. One cold winter’s night just like tonight as I looked upon the dark sky, I had decided to go for a walk. Wrapped up in my elegant scarlet red winter coat with gleaming black buttons descending down the front keeping away the winter chill. Wearing thick leggings as black as coal, leather boots lined with fur which kept my feet cozy.
Closer and closer to the calm water, I began sinking deeper in the sand. It was comforting, the silence, tranquility, and warmth of the faint sun. There is a slight breeze, warm, but cold and lonely. I could smell the scent of fish blowing through my hair and body. The sun was still fading, slowly but surely the day was almost over. About half of it is gone now. I could see shades of blue, red, purple, and pinkish-yellow. They were mixed with puffy clouds that lined the beginning of the sky and the end of the water. I noticed the darker shades on the bottom of the lower clouds.
When most people think about an eventful or memorable place, they almost certainly would not picture a bus. As we all know, buses are not exactly attractive. The design scheme is the same in almost every bus: rows and rows of brown seats, a thin black aisle down the middle of the bus, hundreds of hazy windows, and the big, lemon-yellow exterior. Not many people, I am sure, would consider buses to be an important part of their lives. However, if a person were to think about it, they would realize that they probably have had at least one memorable experience in their life that took place on a bus.
We all remember these grey gloomy days filled with a feeling of despair that saddens the heart from top to bottom. Even though, there may be joy in one’s heart, the atmosphere turns the soul cold and inert. Autumn is the nest of this particular type of days despite its hidden beauty. The sun seems foreign, and the nights are darker than usual enveloped by a thrill that generates chills to travel through the spine leaving you with a feeling of insecurity. Nevertheless, the thinnest of light will always shine through the deepest darkness; in fact, darkness amplifies the beauty and intensity of a sparkle. There I found myself trapped within the four walls of my house, all alone, surrounded by the viscosity of this type of day. I could hear some horrifying voices going through my mind led by unappealing suicidal thought. Boredom had me encaged, completely at its mercy. I needed to go far away, and escape from this morbid house which was wearing me down to the grave. Hope was purely what I was seeking in the middle of the city. Outside, the air was heavy. No beautifully rounded clouds, nor sunrays where available to be admired through the thick grey coat formed by the mist embedded in the streets. Though, I felt quite relieved to notice that I was not alone to feel that emptiness inside myself as I was trying to engage merchant who shown similar “symptoms” of my condition. The atmosphere definitely had a contagious effect spreading through the hearts of every pedestrian that day. Very quickly, what seemed to be comforting me at first, turned out to be deepening me in solitude. In the city park, walking ahead of me, I saw a little boy who had long hair attached with a black bandana.
A new day has begun. Slowly ascending into the cold dark sky, the sun glows vibrantly with delight. The passionate colours fill the sky with warmth like the pink grapefruits, zesty lemons, citrus oranges and cherry red. The sea so subtle sparkles preciously as it strolls up against the shore. The crystal water that stretch out far into the horizon gets darker and deeper but stays very calm.
I awoke to the sun piercing through the screen of my tent while stretching my arms out wide to nudge my friend Alicia to wake up. “Finally!” I said to Alicia, the countdown is over. As I unzip the screen door and we climb out of our tent, I’m embraced with the aroma of campfire burritos that Alicia’s mom Nancy was preparing for us on her gargantuan skillet. While we wait for our breakfast to be finished, me and Alicia, as we do every morning, head to the front convenient store for our morning french vanilla cappuccino. On our walk back to the campsite we always take a short stroll along the lake shore to admire the incandescent sun as it shines over the gleaming dark blue water. This has become a tradition that we do every morning together
The grass was soft and green, reserved for those who wanted to lie down or sit. A sweet aroma of flowers overflowed near by like s shinning light, but was hidden by the untrimmed bushes and wildly growing trees. Up above me was the beautiful, high noon blue sky spotted with fluffy, white clouds and airplanes flying by. I emerged into the parking lot and stopped happily as a squirrel under a tree. Hesitating to proceed anywhere further I took a few minutes to treasure the moment of silence and peace. As my girlfriend and I got out of the car to get ready for the picnic, she happened to be distracted by the water; a rhythmic ongoing resemblance of rhythm in her heart. The water was clam and beautiful in every aspect. To me she was like a wave, never stooping to catch attention or go unnoticed. Before doing anything else, we began setting up the picnic. By the time we ware done, her temptation was unbearable and was finally unable to overcome it, consequently she eagerly ran towards the water pulling me right behind her. Each step was like an imprint in my heart, a fossil that would always remain the same and special inside me forever.
The sunset was not spectacular that day. The vivid ruby and tangerine streaks that so often caressed the blue brow of the sky were sleeping, hidden behind the heavy mists. There are some days when the sunlight seems to dance, to weave and frolic with tongues of fire between the blades of grass. Not on that day. That evening, the yellow light was sickly. It diffused softly through the gray curtains with a shrouded light that just failed to illuminate. High up in the treetops, the leaves swayed, but on the ground, the grass was silent, limp and unmoving. The sun set and the earth waited.
It’s a beautiful morning, as my group of friends and I wake up, we hear the pounding and the thrashing of the water slamming on the moss covered granite rock, I go down the eroded leaf covered pathway to fetch water just like I would do every morning, the sun had just begun to rise, the mixture of scarlet red, orange, and a bleach-like yellow beaming against the hurried water of the river that led into the waterfall shone like flakes of gold floating on top of the whitening water. The serene environment of the surrounding rocks overlooking the waterfall, the ambience of water clashing against the granite, and the aroma of the white pine filling the forest is an awe inspiring experience to all who dare make their way down the narrow and lengthy
I awoke to the sun piercing through the screen of my tent while stretching my arms out wide to nudge my friend Alicia to wake up. “Finally!” I said to Alicia, the countdown is over. As I unzip the screen door and we climb out of our tent, I’m embraced with the aroma of campfire burritos that Alicia’s mom Nancy was preparing for us on her humungous skillet. While we wait for our breakfast to be finished, me and Alicia, as we do every morning, head to the front convenient store for our morning french vanilla cappuccino. On our walk back to the campsite we always take a short stroll along the lake shore to admire the incandescent sun as it shines over the gleaming dark blue water. This has become a tradition that we do every
Fortunately, I wake every morning to the most beautiful sun lit house. I sit on my porch sipping coffee, while I drink in an atmosphere that steals my breath away. Rolling hills lay before me that undulate until they crash into golden purple mountains. Oh how they are covered in spectacular fauna, ever blooming foliage, and trees that are heavy with pungent fruit. Green it is always so green here at my house. Here where the air lays heavy and cool on my skin as does the striking rays of the sun upon my cheeks. I know in my soul why I choose to be here every day. Pocketed in all the nooks and crannies of these valleys and hills are stately homes, rich with architecture resplendent. Diversity is the palate here; ...