I experience many happenings as I walk down the winding gravel roads through the meadow. With each step I take, the grey gravel makes a blunt crunching sound under my black vans and chalky white dust envelopes over my shoes. The wind makes quiet hushing sounds as it gently caresses the tall blades of bright green grass that blankets the meadow. Small mousy colored rodents frolic and scurry through the intertwining blades of grass and brightly-colored orange flowers as they begin their journey home to their barrows before the vicious creatures of the night come out to play and hunt. Light brown fawn clumsily follow their mothers to the small shimmering pond where the golden ducks quack happily, rejoice, and splash about in the cool blue water. …show more content…
Bright tangerine colored koi fish make splashing sounds that are audible even from the road as they swim about in the pond. As I approach a thicket of dense green trees next to a quaint looking cottage, I begin to make out the merry chirpings of sparrows and robins as they glide from tree branch to tree branch. Earthy colored snakes quietly slither away the closer I get. Grasshoppers chirp and leap away as my feet meet the grass surrounding them. Over my shoulder, I can make out the outline of a fuzzy grey cat napping on the brick red cottage steps. I can hear the splashing of small water droplets as they bounced off the bright blue cottage shingles. Beautiful colors illuminates from the translucent droplets as the warm yellow sunlight refracts off the
I prepared myself for the upcoming adventurous day. I set out along a less-traveled path through the woods leading to the shore. I could hear every rustle of the newly fallen leaves covering the ground. The brown ground signaled the changing of seasons and nature's way of preparing for the long winter ahead. Soon these leaves would be covered with a thick layer of snow. The leaves still clinging to the trees above displayed a brilliant array of color, simultaneously showing the differences of each and the beauty of the entire forest.
I curiously pondered what I would discover if I walked to the end, but I never discovered if a trail led to a creek bed or a field filled with wildflowers. Instead, I walked halfway until I decided to leave what laid there to my imagination. Truthfully, I regretted not continuing to finish my adventures, but my fear of snakes kept me from moving on. That day, I encountered a live snake sleeping in its natural habitat. After seeing the cottonmouth’s body coiled in a muddy ditch near me, I feared meeting another snake if I was not careful. Even though Maria tried to convince me to follow her through brambles and tall grasses into a wide clearing, I remained with Shams and her melodica. The coral orange and lavender wildflowers swaying in the clearing tempted me to follow though. Sauntering on the cut-out trails, Shams and I serenaded animals hidden amongst the trees with Prokofiev and Rachmaninoff. While on one particular path, a family of deer leaped quickly across our road. They jumped so gracefully and silently in the air that I stopped playing Mozart to watch them. Mosquitoes swarmed and bit my exposed skin as Shams led me to see a hole that dropped almost thirty feet to the bottom of a
The evening sun was disappearing from the valley. A cool breeze rushed through the leaves of the trees as birds danced to the sound of silence. The calm, bright blue Salinas River swayed back and forth, bumping into the grayish rocks. Grass sprouted as they were being fed. The barn was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. No more yelling, no more galloping horses, just the sound of lungs inhaling and exhaling.
There I stand on the Atlantic Ocean beach in Daytona, Florida. It’s 7:49 A.M, June 28, 2015. I feel my size ten feet sink into the frosty sand. With my board in my left arm, and sand covering my body, I seize my direction towards the blue ocean. As I halt at the base of the monumental ocean, I gaze in both directions, not a life in sight. I feel at peace, solitude, in my own meager world. As the crisp ocean mist wipes my sand replete face, I bounce into the ocean with my board under my body, cruising into the profound blue sea.
The first thing I heard was Virginia Beach vacation, and then in excitement I ran and got my stuff and started to pack. The part I was most excited about was that the hotel is a beachfront hotel room.I was so excited because I love the beach and I really wanted to go back to the beachfront hotel and stay there. I went there when I was in second grade. I have gotten to go there a few times since second grade, but I did not get to stay there overnight.
The sound of the gently waving trees, the chattering of the birds, the heat of the sun-
I had a great time during my vacation in Myrtle Beach. First of all, myrtle beaches were beautiful. I went to Myrtle Beaches on summer 2013 for ten days, and I had a good time with my family. It was always about 90 degrees
Nature is a very beautiful thing in this world. Even at times when it seems as if nothing is beautiful. Whenever I go to the Mines of Spain Nature Preserve, in Dubuque, I think of my friend Karl. Walking on the trails reminds me of all the bugs that used to bother us as we journeyed to our special cliff. He used to jump up and down, waving his hands in the air as if his actions were going to make the bugs disappear. Of course the bugs were still there, and I had my laughs for the day! We would walk together on the trail slowly, and watch all the wilderness around us. There are so many trees and bushes, and during the fall there are the greatest colors of leaves imaginable. Occasionally we would see and hear an animal or two climbing the trees of crossing our path ahead. There are a few streams along this path. The water runs slowly and smoothly, even when in runs over the stones that are in the stream. Karl used to jump in and get both of us wet. It didn't matter how mad I got, because after I would l...
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.
I slowly trudged up the road towards the farm. The country road was dusty, and quiet except for the occasional passing vehicle. Only the clear, burbling sound of a wren’s birdsong sporadically broke the boredom. A faded sign flapped lethargically against the gate. On it, a big black and white cow stood over the words “Bent Rail Farm”. The sign needed fresh paint, and one of its hinges was broken. Suddenly, the distant roar of an engine shattered the stillness of that Friday afternoon. Big tires speeding over gravel pelted small stones in all directions. The truck stopped in front of the red-brick farmhouse with the green door and shutters. It was the large milking truck that stopped by every Friday afternoon. I leisurely passed by fields of corn, wheat, barley, and strawberries. The fields stretched from the gradient hills to the snowy mountains. The blasting wind blew like a bellowing blizzard. A river cut through the hilly panorama. The river ubiquitously flowed from tranquil to tempestuous water. Raging river rapids rushed recklessly into rocks ricocheting and rebounding relentlessly through this rigorous river. Leaves danced with the wind as I looked around the valley. The sun was trapped by smoky, and soggy clouds.
As I lay on the minute golden grains of sand, I looked up at the brilliant sky, adorned with flashes of pink and orange and purple, mirroring the colours of a flawless seasoned apricot. The goddess-like sun’s face is being embraced by the demure navy fingertips of the skyline.
We took off down a path covered softly with moss and tiny pink flowers. Off to the side of the path were endless green trees and pants all nestled together to make one beautiful piece of art. After a while, we reached a sparkling, clear brook. It was about twelve feet deep and nearly three feet deep. The path wound right along side the water. Down the brook a ways, we came to a deep water hole where the fish danced in the swirling current. I noticed the brook was beginning to flow a little faster now, and I could hear the steady, rushing noise of the water falling over the cliffs that lied ahead. We walked to the cliff's edge to look over at the crystal clear lagoon that lay below us. The falls dropped about thirty feet down before it met the pool of water below. To the sides of the waterfall were moss-covered rocks, ferns and other green plants, growing from the crevices of the cliffs.
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
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; ...
I use any excuse to walk along the ocean, especially alone and without my phone. The wind blew cold air, but the sun’s warm rays kept my body at a perfect temperature. It was three in the afternoon and I was calm.