Descriptive Essay of an Object

this water to survive, and our loved ones at home worried sick wondering if we are even still alive. Then again the view a had while doing this wasn’t all that bad. Most likely a better view than what I would have originally had at the resort we were heading to.

Awaking from my daze to peer out the large, sweeping windows of the tour bus. Speeding past me is the Normandy countryside located on France's northern coast. After driving for an hour, we appear to be slowing down. The tour guide, Gilles, speaks over the intercom in his accented English describing the medieval structures of the town we are approaching. From a distance it appears to be a tourist haunt. Honfleur is a beautiful town that is different from anywhere else in the world.

Rommel was known for going against german command and not killing allied commandos as well as sharing water with pow in the african desert. Rommel was one of the few German High Command who didn’t participate in war crimes, and is still highly regarded in Germany. Rommel was a smart person who was on the wrong side of history.

There were waves of adrenaline pumping through my body. A million heart beats per second. I was beyond curious to see what lie behind those huge sliding doors. So many cultures and places I was ready to explore. I could not wait to see a whole new way of life. Once I stepped out of the airport, I could feel the warm and humid air against my skin. Thoughts rushed through my brain all at once. I was so excited to see part of the world that I have never seen before. My family managed to find a taxi that could fit us, and all the baggage that we came with. The leather seats of the car were cold, a relief from the hot weather. I sat in the car, glancing out of the window the entire way to our hotel. The hotel was tall and had a cubic shape. A turquoise green color with large, white beams running across it. When I stepped out of the taxi, there were people at the entrance to greet us. My father checked into the hotel, and then we traveled out near the pool and lounging area. Their was a crystal clear pool. As well as a gargantuan, abstract structure. It was white and resembled a giant goldfish. We looked out and could see the ocean. There were people parasailing and jet skiing. I immediately remembered the time I was in Mexico, all the people out on the water. The sunset reflected perfectly on the ocean. Distinctly remembering the fresh water scent ventilating around in the air. I got a similar rush being in both places, excitement and overwhelm took over my body completely. I felt two emotions at the same time, all tangled up in me. The view of this place was utterly breathtaking. The sun was beaming, and people below us were bustling. I could smell the ocean from the hotel, it was a comforting smell. As if I were on the beach or on a boat sailing away. The feeling that I got, when I stood above the new world below me, is something that is hard to forget.

Toshaina has the biggest heart, she would hand it away to anyone who inquired. Moreover, she is generous, patient and possesses a magnificent sense of humor. She constantly reminds me of sunflowers, she can brighten up anybody’s day by simply speaking to them. Her power to continue strong in whatever situation is mind blowing. Her biggest motto was too always “be better than me” I would think to myself “how when you’re already so freaking great” but she assured me that she’s not and wasn’t at my years. She invariably delivered on a fresh pair of Jordan’s and polo outfit she felt like you couldn’t wear one without the other. The color she wore the most was yellow, being born a Jamaican she always enjoyed the color since birth.

As the glossy doors of the stifling elevator closed shut, I squeezed a large, glowing button that held an image of an upwards arrow. Listening to the humdrum jazz music on my way to the thirteenth floor, my long forehead began to produce droplets of sweat and tears, for the walls of the elevator were closing in on me. In order to calm my fretful senses, I began fiddling with the silver buckles on my briefcase, until a deafening crash entered my ears. The booming sound filled the room once more, this time causing my body to hit the hard ground. Suddenly, the motion of the elevator came to a halt, generating a fuse of the ceiling lights. Across from the silver doors, I noticed three mysterious beings, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. A man with big, dark eyes and an oversized trench coat stared into my very soul, as he resembled a vampire. An elderly woman, wearing a hat and scarf, cackled like a menace each time the elevator clashed. In the left corner, sat another man, with a bloody shirt and a wicked temper. My heart, beating faster than a set of drums, started to ache as I looked around at my inmates. Brooding and staring, each looked at me as if I were a savage animal. Trying to start a friendly conversation, my mouth uttered, “How long do you think we will be in here?” No response. The elevator was so quiet that a dropping pin could be heard.

Everyone usually needs a place to destress and relax from their hectic lives, somewhere to loosen up. When I need to unwind, I head to Colorado. Although I truly love every part of the state, Durango is one of my most favorite places to visit. This calm town found in the southwestern part of the state close to the New Mexico border.

There he was, walking into my fourth period class with a smirk on his face, and an outfit that screamed that he was cowboy. I, for one was not the type of girl to fall head over heels for a guy, but something about him stood out from the rest of the male population of the school. He seemed like the respectable type one could take home to their parents without them disapproving. His looks took hold of me and held me as if the image of his visage could never be erased from my mind. Never have I seen a more perfect person in my entire existence.

Growing up being bullied, I never had a friend to help me through all of that crazy nonsense.

While walking through the enormous open-gated entry, I glanced down at the freshly printed orange stamp on my hand and smiled to myself. Happy to be back, even though it was sweltering hot, I could not wait for the gut-wrenching fun I was about to enjoy. There seemed to be an ocean of enormous rides set out in front of me. All were shiny and carried the bright colors of the rainbow. Some towered above the rest, reaching great heights within the sky. I could hear the cheerful laughter of children at the carousel, their parents gleefully taking pictures, and the terrified screams of those being swung into the air by monstrous roller coasters.

I raced through the city; my heart was beating faster and faster with every stride. The air coursed through my brindle-colored coat. With me is my closest companion, my sister, Mabel. She only came along because I told her there would be birds she could chase. But the real reason I wanted to go was to explore the city in which I was born.

A cool breeze blew across my face as I lie on the the white leather seats of my family's new boat. The water sloshes around rocking me back and forth ever so gently. I turn my head away from the gleaming sun straight above as it starts to sting my eyes. My furry black labrador retriever comes up and puts her nose right next to my face so I can feel her breath. I reach out and touch her velvety ears as she begins to lay down hoping for a belly rub. I hear my sisters laugh as her and her friend jump into the deep blue lake making drops of water spray up which lightly land on my skin. I sit up and rest my chin on the top of the seat and peer down into the water watching them swim about.

There is one place that overrules all the others. Only three hours away in Elk County lies my relaxing escape quarter. When I step foot into the old fashioned cabin, all of my troubles go away. I love that it resembles a completely different world. The whirling of the wind, the brightness of the stars, and the fragrance of the fresh air are just a few of my favorite things about spending time at my favorite place. The atmosphere of Elk County contains an incredibly tranquilizing sense. A lonely cabin placed in the middle of nowhere with no cell phone service and rarely any other people. However, if there are other people, we all share the same goal, to relax. The camp itself occupies the top of a popular mountain in Elk County called Winslow Hill. This hill belongs to a portion of the county that houses hundreds of camps, visitors, and the Elk County Visitor Center. This is an easily accessible area where elk can conveniently be seen. The cares of the world come off my shoulders when I step into Elk County.

It was a chilly night, but the sky was clear and the stars were shining brighter than ever. The soft breeze made the trees rustle. I liked that sound. It made me feel like I wasn’t alone. It made me feel relaxed. I was looking out my bedroom window thinking that nothing could destroy this relaxing, happy, and beautiful night, but I didn’t know what was coming.

The front windows were rolled down as wind washed through the steadily moving car. A strong stench of month-old fruit, cigarette smoke and general grime was hidden only by wafting aftershave, purchased at last weeks five dollar sale. Glued across the grey vinyl upholstery were crumbs of every imaginable food source, accompanied by a myriad of colourful drink stains. A selection of ear-aching top one hundred 80s hits hummed over the radio as the engine chugged and gurgled. The car was red, or at least it would have been before streaks of copper coloured rust engulfed the ageing steel. I looked outside at endless rows of traffic and smelt the the pungent car fumes filling my nostrils. Here in this rolling pile of grey, I felt consumed by circles pollution. Heat was creating shimmery mirages across the black bitumen surface. A long jail-like fence enclosed the miles of road, blocking any sight of green that lay beyond. It created an imposing shadow across the lanes of pavement lying in front. Like an old security guard, the fence was strong but silent, a present reminder of safety but also of restriction. The sky was coloured like a graphite sketch, a blended mix of greys. Flocks of squawking birds were flying overhead but their calls were barely audible beneath chords of blearing car horns. The air was heavy to breathe, a strange putrid cocktail of smoke, petrol and humidity. I turned my mind back to the station wagon as the wheels began to roll and the traffic finally