Meadow Descriptive Writing

If you're lucky enough to travel anywhere where would you go? I chose to go to a warm climate where there is tall palm trees, it's densely populated and it's one of the biggest states in the united states this place is California, that was the best choice I have made so far this year.

The lake darkens as the ominous clouds race across the sky, as black as the devil’s soul, and swallows the bliss-blue complexion of the sky faster than you can blink. The world has abruptly become cellar-dark and the heavens above look to collapse down upon me. A deafening wind runs over the landscape like a thousand horses, the noise of the raindrops their clattering hoofs. The threatening force of the gales knocks and blows the trees in precarious ways, almost as though, if it had wanted to, the wind could blow them away as if they were but feathers, not heavy pines. Lighting lights up the sky like liquid, golden ore streaks being forged into forks up above. Wriggling and writhing with the pain of their own existence. Flashing once, twice, three times, polished and glossy like the cold prongs of the apocalypse. Shaking myself from my weather-caused trance, I hurry for shelter under a nearby fern tree. Staring deep into the blackness of the storm I wonder whether I will ever see that bliss-blue appearance

The exhilaration of a terrifyingly glorious leap sends ardent shrills down my spine. As I fly through the thick canopy of leafy chlorophyll-filled greens, I reach out to the sky and the sun smiles back at me. Inhaling the fresh raw air, the earthy petrichor floods my nostrils with an indescribably sprightly scent; I thank the prolific trees for such a crisp, oxygen abundant delight.

Glancing up toward the light, blue, cloudy sky, the great, tall, and humongous Mt. Rainer towers above everything around its area. The snow peaked top gives this marvelous mountain a sensational feeling when you stare at it with a wide open jaw as the sharp crest gleams in the sunshine. When the snow melts, the water flows swiftly into a set of rivers. All around it thousands of trees stretch around the vicinity for miles. Two cheerful, cute birds fly around in joyous excitement since the flowers slowly bloom open as it’s becoming spring soon. As the soft wind blows gracefully, grass with little droplets of dew wave around delicately. A few feet away a large spider’s web is covered with water droplets and sparkles brightly just like a diamond.

Through the use of diction, the distinguished author, D. Brown, is able to express how the land he once knew is now an arid and desolate place of death and sadness without the buffalos. Brown writes,“Day after day the sun baked the earth drier and drier, the streams stopped running, great whirlwinds of grasshoppers were flung out of the metallic sky to consume the parched grass.” The author uses both repetition and personification in this passage to emphasize how scarcely dry the land is. The phrases “Day after day” and “drier and drier” epitomize how this awful weather has been droning on for an extensive amount of time. He also gives the grass a human quality of being parched, which provides an image that the land is dry. This use of diction

The authors have two clearly different environments and describes them in diverse ways. Abbey writes about his surroundings as a bright, clear, calm April morning. He changed his description in the afternoon as “the wind begins to blow, raising dust and sand in funnel-shaped twisters that spin across that desert briefly, like dancers, and then collapse-elements under stress” (52). While Leopold writes about his experience with on a mountain as a “deep chesty ball echoes from rimrock to rimrock, rolls down the mountain, and fades into the far blackness of the night” (49).

As the sun rose over the horizon it awoke the jungle slowly and efficiently. Soon I could hear the morning birds chirp with all their heart and that triggered joy and excitement in my soul. A morning breeze toured the jungle making the flowers and leaves tango with rhythm and finesse as though they were experts. The lush evergreen trees stood so firm as if the roots were clinging for their very life, in the distance there was a Crystal River and a waterfall as its source. I could hear the rampaging rapids after the dip of the waterfall which slowly converted into a swift river forcefully turning at every bank.

The sun is high above me and I walk into the forest in front of me,

When examining the studies on forests in the Yucatan Peninsula, it is crucial to understand the importance and severity of hurricane disturbances. Forests in the Yucatan are affected differently by many different types of forest disturbances, especially anthropogenic and natural disturbances like hurricanes which occur frequently (Boose et. al. 2003). The Yucatan forests also have calm topographical conditions, which provides clearer relationships between forest structure and composition, and hurricane intensity and severity. Understanding the relative importance of hurricanes also contextualizes the other disturbances that affect forest composition and structure. Anthropogenic land use conversion historically disturbs the Yucatan forests;

When the sun slowly peeps over the range of mountains, birds shake the morning dew off their feathers and give a cheerful song that would lift even the most sorrowful of spirits. A light fog wraps around the mountain range, reaching to touch every bit of life thriving there. The slight chill in the air is enough to give a gentle shiver, but not enough for the need of a jacket. A breeze tickles the trees, making their leaves shake and sway with laughter. Sunlight seeps in past the thick canopy of branches with hopes of being able to reach the damp mountain earth. The mountains are the best place to live to be relaxed, see the most beauty, and never get bored.

When arriving at Tumbledown Mountain, I was surrounded by brown and reddish leaves that were scattered on the ground. The trees around me were filled with luscious, vibrant, green leaves that enchanted my eyes. In addition to the leaves and trees, there was a lot of moss growing on tree stumps that looked like a small blanket covering an infant. Wild, white mushrooms were also growing out of the ground, which gave the ground a pop of color. Taking a step out of the car and onto the leaves, sounded like fire crackling at a camp fire. The sound of the leaves made the hairs on my arm stick up and filled my skin with small goose bumps. At first the smell of the woods was unfamiliar, but I soon got used to it and felt at ease. It felt like I was in my own fantasy where I could escape my troubles and focus on each little detail in the woods.

Yet were being held down, giving a silent rhapsody of joy and grieving. Along the way fallen timber accompanied thickets of weeds. A lazy mist hazed my vision, making the horizon seem like one from a story book. The area was imperturbable, as if it was keeping a secret hidden deep within itself.

I have always found nature to be so amazing from the hundreds of trees and flowers to the animals within the forest. Experiencing nature is one of the best things that could happen in your life. I have always lived near the woods so I can experience nature every day. I have always felt calm when I go into the woods so I go there when I feel stressed. I lay in my hammock for a while or go put my feet into the icy cold water in the creek to get away from the world and just be at peace. To get away from the judgmental glares and the expectations from people.

Growing up I have tender memories of watching the majestic oak tree go thru numerous seasons. Each change of time brought on another milestone in my life. Climbing the branches I learned so much about life and myself. Looking down from the tree I learned more about others then I would being stuck on the ground alone. At the age of 5, I can fondly remember my step father building a tree house in that oak tree and attaching a rope swing. The addition of the treehouse brought a new love into my life, but it never took away love of my tree.

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.