Descriptive Essay : The Day Of The Day

Traveling is one of my family’s favorite things to do. The family has visited numerous places throughout the United States, however, none are as memorable as Atlanta, Georgia. In Atlanta, there are many places to go and sights to see such as: Cola-cola factory, Cabbage Patch Kids Factory, Under Ground Mall, the Zoo, Atlanta Braves Stadium, Six Flags Over Georgia, Stone Mountain Park, and the Atlanta Aquarium, are all in or near the city of Atlanta. The three that we visit on every trip to Atlanta are Six Flags, Stone Mountain, and the Atlanta Aquarium.

The rugged sea of the lawn illuminated the brisk zephyrs dancing. I saw each individual blade of grass flickering in the summer breezes. It was simple to watch specific pieces of grass because each one boasted a unique tint of green, a quintillion shades of green. The sky was as marvelous as ever. Colors that I could never begin to imagine were spattered, splashed, and speckled on the sky as if God himself held the palate in front of the empyrean canvas. It appeared as if the luminous sunset was a minuscule example of what heaven looked like. A mellifluous range of sounds could be heard. Cicadas buzzed, birds sang, and dogs barked.

Fish swim around in a swirl of color without even realizing the supremacy of their outer appearance. I would imagine they’re smiling underneath that glassy blanket they live in. The air is always crisp and full of natural purity with just a wisp of campfire smoke every now and then. Pine trees season the scenery with fresh bursts of forest green and their famous musky scent. When the sun starts to go down and the remaining light hits the water, it looks like a rainbow of watercolors spilled ever so gently onto the surface and you’re heart skips a beat from the age old beauty of it all. At that very moment, it makes me feel like nothing bad could ever come near me and whatever shall happen thus far, I can still depend on the sun to make it’s breathtaking decent into the night. Everything at Jordan Lake has always been profound for me, simply because it’s been an outlet that has always been there for my entire life. It is not only a symbol of the hardships I was able to overcome throughout my life with silent contemplation and rounded logical thinking but a reminder to stay humble and appreciate the people I have been gifted with as a support

Strutting through the familiar, gate worn by time, I spread my arms, taking in the saccharine aroma of the fresh grass. The remaining glimmers of the sun glisten on every blade that peeks through the moist soil, composing a sea of sparkling beauty, only comparable to a poem. The meadow is breathtaking this evening, as the sun sets behind the trees in the distance, leaving a glow of pinks, peaches, ambers, and crimsons behind as if a bowl of fruit had exploded in the sky.

A purple dusk splashing over tangerine groves and long melon fields; the sun the color of pressed grapes, slashed with burgandy red, the fields the color of love and Spanish mysteries. When the sun set, no candle replaced it. Only the lustrous spark in glossy eyes to spare. Under the willow trees, the leaves lay deep and so crisp that a lizard made a great skittering if he ran among them. Elegantly, the innumerable flashing fragments lay shining in midst of the church. Ahead, the path vivaciously glistening like white quartz, yet raindrops on the weary concrete was all it was.

After approximately forty-five minutes of feeling the feverish sun rays hit my skin, clouds united to take over the sky, and the smell of rain polluted the air. As I pressed the pages of my books together, I noticed the ducks waddling towards a tunnel in a creek at the bottom of a slight hill, each orange, webbed foot splashing the water anxiously.

The front door opens to the blinding sun and the sweet smell of freshly cut grass surrounds me as I'm dragged out the door by the black shadow, my dog Louie a black maltipoo, with a grin on his face. Taunted by multicolored birds flying through the bright blue sky swoop down a strike of black fur can be seen chasing after them with me stumbling behind barely holding on to the leash. On the bright green grass fields outlined by either palm trees soaring into the sky or a few various styles of houses. With a magnificent view of the valley with airplanes flying overhead as well as the view of bowl like mountains.On the journey across these grassy fields you can spot a pond filled with a wide variety of fish, turtles as well as ducks. In fact during the spring time if your luck when you go down and seat on the bench overlooking the pond you may see cute little ducklings swimming around their mother. Although you could also see the shark known in the neighborhood which is 3 feet long carp which swimming around at dusk. With the occasional sound of a golf ball whizzing

Watching the water glistening and shining was always so peaceful. Your arms rested upon an old wooden railing, which creaked with every movement. You leaned forward to watch a fish leap out of the water, flying into the air for a moment, before returning to the lake. As you heard the loud creaking of the railing, you tried to lean back, but before you knew it you’d lost your footing and felt yourself plunged into the lake’s depths, a scream escaping your lips before water surrounded you.

One looks out across a secluded section of the Hudson River. It is late afternoon, and the sun is beginning its decent. The sun is almost blinding; its rays glistening and reflecting upon the river turning its blues to greens. The sky is clear with the exception of a few scattered clouds, which begin to absorb the gold and reds of the setting sun, giving an almost hazy effect to the end of this Indian summer day. On the far side of the river, a child helps his father pull a small boat onto the bank, as a small group of cattle makes their way across from the bank opposite them. The cattle move slowly and intently across the water, drinking as they walk, enjoying the last moments of the day as they continue toward the father and son. Two additional cows lounge on the cool earth beneath the trees whose branches are scattered with the crimson and yellow-orange colors of early evening and that of fall.

The Salinas River was green with the aroma of sweet sickles filling the air. Lennie sat hiding in a bush unable to speak, trying to make sense of what had just happened to him. He heard the faint shouts of men far off in the woods. Despite the tragedy, it was peaceful. The river was glistening with the soft reflection on the setting sun. Various animals took refuge among the pool. Two swans came floating down the pool, weaving a pompous dance. They continued down the river.

A lake is no place for a watch. I think it’s unreasonable to request anyone to keep time in such a place. My tan forearm barred no watch; no stripe of pale skin to indicate a childhood subject to the constraints of Tick and Tock. A timeless realm, the lake emancipated the soul and the body, allowing both to mingle with nature. My bare, unpainted toes were always covered with mud from walking the trail around Apache Lake, past the little outhouse, Carp Cove, but not as far as Hodgson’s dusty old cabin. It was difficult to see from the road, and at times I felt nobody ever went there but me. Tall yellowed grasses embraced the water’s rocky edge like a mother’s protective hug. Clumps of Aspen whispered collectively as I built forts in their midst, and Ponderosa tress stood tall and unyielding, looking down at my imaginative creations with approval. The wind and the euphonious lilt of the Meadowlark were ideal companions as I played and watched and wondered.

Serene, swimming black ducks Playfully, rapid moving Iguanas The air as light as a feather Bismarck Palms make themselves known with their colors Skinny triangular palms, making me feel at peace with nature surrounding me Wild Tamarind, appeal and allure anyone walking by Colorful, rainbow windows reminding me of my childhood Energetic little green lizards run around Crisp, pink vibrant flowers This was the garden before it was left for lifeless

The first thing you notice is the eight perfectly planted rows of fifteen foot tall, bright green pine trees. The trees are hiding a trail surrounded by purple wildflowers leading down into the woods. Off in the distance is the music that draws you farther down the pathway, the birds singing, the wind blowing the leaves, the crickets chirping, and the white-tail deer in the woods rustling around you. Fragrances from the bright shades of purple, yellow, white, and red fill your nose as you descend to the lowest point of the trail. This is the spot on the pathway where you notice, the pinnacle of my nirvana, the pond.

At the end of the dock is a sign that reads; "No Fishing, No Swimming, No Dumping"; a sign that is quite often recognized by all visitors of parks and lakes and as big as the windshield. Around the lake there a hills and valleys around Lake Lavon. $200,00 home are springing up like mad. Retirees, former airline pilots, and people generally burned out on big cities are discovering Lake Lavon. The small lake but the perfect weather, and the safe-quiet atmosphere are drawing people like a cover-up draws Ed Bradly. Without thought or hesitation we smiled and warmly held ourselves in each other arms and slowly sat down together at the end of the dock, put out feet in the water and the water was so cool like melted water from snow (to eat the strawberries we brought). The strawberries were delicious; red, ripped, and plumped; sweetness caressed our mouth with very bite. Some were quite sour, but was washed it away by an ocean of water every time. As supplies ran short she decided to play lazy and had me carry her to watch the people fishing by the dock. Although very distinctive and precise, I was like a bear; very step was heavy and short. To the left side of the dock about 200ft people ware fishing and kid's playing soccer on the field near the lake. By watching them play I remember my childhood, that my mother always took me to the Lake Lavon every weekend to fishing, and now I'm with my girlfriend holding her hand and watching people fishing and

It’s 7:30am, I step outside onto my apartment balcony. Cars are zooming down the over crowded streets, staunch buildings towering over me blocking the greeny lush hills far away. People rapidly walking down the sidewalk. In front of my eyes are shimmery silver and navy colours reflecting from the sky high buildings, they stand out more than the joyous light blue sky itself. Sounding in my ears are cars angrily roaring every 5 seconds, people barking at taxis to stop, an earth shaking sound that’s mixed with sound of a hurricane that’s just the aeroplane taking off from the city airport. The mouth watering smell of the local bakery down the road lingers through my nose, I can taste those freshly baked scones in my mouth from here.