Descriptive Essay On Sighing Trees

A soft, warm breeze brought the smell of rain and wet dirt through my open window. The wind carried summer and spring and winter and fall with it, filling my lungs with the purest air I'd ever breathed. The wind carried no pollution, no smoke, only pure, clean air, untainted by human influence. The breeze seemed to come up from the depths of the earth. Everything was silent, and beautiful. I imagined rolling fields of grass that went on for miles, and when I opened my eyes, I looked down at the black, oily concrete and saw grass, pushing its way through faster than I ever thought possible. The concrete shattered and crumbled to dust as the grass overcame the cement streets and sidewalks. In a matter of minutes, all of the streets were gone, replaced by vibrant green grass that looked soft to the

Imagine, if you will, a brisk night wind coming fast across a lake carrying a pungent smell, something you can’t quite identify, but is nonetheless familiar enough to send a shiver up your spine. As it hits the trees, they creak out a somber call in the still night air. Or was that groan something more…human? You notice, for the first time, the absence of tires humming on pavement and you wonder if it’s that late, or maybe just a slow night. The soft tapping of your shoes on the sidewalk is the only accompaniment your slow breathing has as you move towards the warmth of your home, holding thoughts of a warm bed in the palm of your hand to keep the chill away. You don’t notice at first, perhaps because the reality of what you’re hearing is

Instead of your heavy winter coat, you decide on a raincoat and boots for the upcoming rain. With the wet dirt and uncovered tree’s, earthly smells enclose your senses. Seeing the newly grown grass. Hearing the birds chirp after returning back to their homes. Critters have just begun to come out of hibernation and everything starts to become the active beaten path you used to know. As the clouds start to disappear and the sun comes out of hiding, trees and plants start to bloom with new life with the vibrant colors of summer. Leaving behind the pastel colors of spring, summer brings noisy vibrant colors to life. The animals wake and scamper across the cement pathway while the flowers open to the morning rays. Different smells meet you halfway to fill your nose with aromas that have not been discovered since last

We arrived at our destination… so I took my headphones out, and I put my iPhone away. I stepped off of the bus to see a large brick school building with some bricks missing and multiple cracked windows illuminated by light bulbs glowing brightly in classrooms full of innocent children. I began walking to the entrance of the school, trying to avoid the large cracks in the sidewalk that were filled with ice on this bitter December day. Snow was falling and the bitter cold and my new surroundings were shaking me to the core.

The sunlight seemed to fade and my eyes quickly became used to the dim light. A multitude of animal sounds pervaded my ears. Crickets, bats, owls. There was an abundance of creepy crawlies like spiders hanging from the branches. The only thing I could smell was dead savaged bodies and the decomposing of rotten leaves.

Although the tundra land was intriguing, there was a lot more to see; meandering down the valley, the grass (which was once a luscious green) has begun to grow dead, and dry. The shadowy sky – which is filled with ubiquitous clouds – reflects the decaying ground. It is a shield against the sun; it

Higher and higher he soars, through and above the colorful patches and swirls. It is here that the most delicate and tender leaves kiss the sun.

Through the angle in the screen door I saw my father who had been walking into his room wheel around on one of his rubber-booted heels and look at her with his blue eyes flashing like clearest ice beneath the snow that was his hair. His usually ruddy face was drawn and grey, reflecting the exhaustion of a man of sixty-five who had been working in those rubber boots for eleven hours on an August day, and for a fleeting moment I wondered what I would do if he killed my mother while I stood there in the porch with those three foolish mackerel in my hand. Then he turned and went into his room and the radio blared forth the next day’s weather forecast and I retreated under the noise and returned again,

The rushing wind blows a scent of sea salt across my body, tickling my nose and awakening my senses. Slowly my eyes open to absorb the beauty of the morning sky, which is delicately speckled with poignant white cotton balls. A loud snore can be heard from the main room of the apartment, while the stilled breathing of my brother drones on. Carefully, I crawl out from my bed exiting the guest room and making my way slowly across the tiny apartment. My entire family lays across the main floor in a tangled mess of inflated beds and plush blankets. I traverse the maze with a multitude of leaps and bounds until I make contact with the porch door; which I slide through with relief. Standing within the square enclosure the turquoise tinted water greets me with beauty and graciousness. Even from the

A single beam of light shone thru the curtain. The specs of dust in the room danced between the rays, whisked into the air by the pleasant breeze tip toeing thru the screen door. I could feel the warmth on my cheek as I rose from the sheets, thoroughly rested. I briskly got ready, slipping on my tennis shoes, old and worn. Stepping outside, I was greeted by the painfully sweet aroma of sweet pea flowers, entranced by the blissful gleams of sunlight, and spellbound by the familiar screeching of parrots, flocking in clouds of bright vermilion.

The air was crisp and clean, as it was a mild autumn day. Throughout the forest, the sounds of nature could be heard. Birds chirping, leaves falling off trees in the midday breeze. The calm sounds of the woods gave way to a new sound: the gentle humming of a young female wanderer, on a quest to visit her grandmother. She quite enjoyed the sounds and view of the forest, as it was her favorite thing to surround herself with as she was growing up in the village not far from the forest edge. As she strolled through the winding paths of the forest road, she thought of the wonderful experiences of the day ahead with her grandmother.

From the morning mist reclining on blades of grass, to cool winds sweeping through the forest trees

It was not often that I had a few hours to slip away and return to that beloved spot under my favorite pair of trees. That day I had packed my hammock, a thermos full of jasmine tea, and the book that had been gathering dust on my shelf for months. I hopped in my car and drove the relaxing forty-seven minute journey (I had narrowed it down to the exact minute since I had driven there so many times). I stepped onto that familiar turf wearing my favorite jacket; it was a little more brisk than most would consider to be the perfect autumn afternoon, but I disagreed. The crisp, dry air was refreshing, cleansing. I needed to clear my head.

The Abandoned house stood there, with fog rising to the sky. Lights flickered being the only light in the dark….. The fog dragged a cold breeze, that sent a chill up my spine, this house has been here forever and nothing like this has ever happened before, I gulped and strolled into the cold night fog. As I approached the house, the door slowly opens and a Shadow steps towards me. The weather just dropped like 40 degrees, I don't like this at all.

A chilled breeze caused my hair to stand up on end, so I peek over my shoulder to see the window in my bedroom door open. The blue, polka-dotted whipped around violently but I couldn 't hear the sounds of a strong wind. Huh, could have sworn I 'd closed that. . . I spring to my feet and shiver as I step across the cold floor toward my room. On my tip-toes, I pull the screen down to shut it and take a minute to stare out the window. The moon cast a dim light over the small town, illuminating only the fronts of houses and the tip of trees, abandoning all else to darkness. A light fog danced in the distance and I smiled thinking how perfect it looked on Halloween 's night. I looked down from the top floor one last time then tugged the curtains shut.