Descriptive Narrative Descriptive Essay

The day was chill and somber.  Overhead was a gray expanse of cloud, slightly stirred, however, by a breeze; so that a gleam of flickering sunshine might now and then be seen a its solitary play along the path (159).

The sun was glistening through the tall, swaying pines. To the right of the trail, a gentle river flowed softly down towards the mouth of the lake. Walking across the rickety wooden bridge, I inhaled a deep breath of refreshingly crisp mountain air. The sun beat down on me as I made my way across the bridge and back onto the well-used hiking trail. The ambient sounds of chirping birds, babbling water, and the croaks of several frogs filled my ears as I made my way around the bend. As I entered the mouth of the forest, I could see my father standing in the middle of the path, glancing upwards, taking in the beauty that had began to engulf us. “We better get going.” he said, looking back at me. “There’s still many miles to go.” I smiled and turned, taking in one last view of the beautiful creekside. Then, with determination, we set out to finish the challenging trek we had started.

It was a gloomy September day. It had been raining all day, but had stopped enough for a cross country meet, and when we arrived at the site, there was still a gray haze in the sky. It would’ve been a great day to run, except for the fact that we were running at the El Paso-Gridley course. The course is filled with lots of small hills. There’s a long creek the runners run through

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.

While my brain was still in a pickle I could see the track in my sights. The scene was amazing, from the well nursed sand-pit to the clean rubberized eight lane track. Slowly nodding my head, I thought to myself “how a place I had trouble imagining could give off such a sense of comfort”. In admiration for the track, I still felt a little unsure; farther down the track I spotted Lentz, Jovon, and Campbell, who were two of my other close friends, walking towards me. We all gathered together and Lentz started talking about what we would be expecting,” So yeah I’m glad yall boys came for this work, you won’t regret; remember the overall goal getting better for ball but you never know.” The three of us responded, “Cool, where is coach?” He responded, “Chill he’s on his way, you’ll go through the same intro workout as me from yesterday.” Coach Huntley, a top coach in football/track showed up and wasted no time. We started off with all these intricate workouts and techniques that really pushed our whole body especially our legs; which lead up to trial runs in the sand pit. In my mind I thought to myself I’ve never jumped in a sand pit; I was eager. So using the techniques learned from coach we lined up. Being more of an observer I decided to go last; not knowing they would try to

The breeze, what a feeling it left cooling the hot bodies in the summer heat. The air, thick with radiations from the sun, sucked up all the coolness that has ever entered Porterville. With its land in need of something to clench their thirst and drains that are dry as fish without water, stand the Gold and Blue Race. Everyone was stretching, preparing for a big yet small opportunity that leads some to become a varsity member. All the workouts, long

As the sun’s nutritious rays fuel my body; sweat races down my back and accumulates into the threads of my cotton t-shirt. I peer over my neighborhood park fence and gaze over the spacious scenery. The track field was well in shape, free of small debris and ready for a test run and light jump activities in the sand-pit. Soon enough the high temperature fills my head, leaving me in a state of allusion. Images of my friends and I sporadically unfold in front of me and unto the track; as if being placed in a desert mirage. I feel a sense of peace and eagerness surge through my body, while the images continue to appear. Then, a whisper comes into the mix saying some sort of gibberish. Stepping a bit more cautiously then I regularly would I walked

Sitting in the green grass with many incredibly large trees within the area, it seemed like a perfect day to lie down and stare at the different shapes of clouds slowly shifting through the sky and birds moving through the distance. The

The park is welcoming, sprawling, open, and not especially crowded in the bright but gray midday sunlight. It is on a suburban street so there isn’t much noise pollution beyond the cars on the moderately busy street on one side. The horizon is hidden by tall trees and 70’s style houses in every direction. It is overcast, cool, windy but only slightly. The air smells as though it might rain this evening.

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.

He clicked out of this skis and stood to inspect our surroundings. It was a clear Sunday afternoon, and the mountains were sprinkled with a fresh dusting of powder. The sun’s rays reflected off the snow, making it sparkle like tiny crystals. It was beautiful. The evergreens above cast a shadow that shaded us from the glare. Jedd absently strolled over the snow bank and sat. Tilting his head to the side he said with a shrug.

There’s a little crunch as I step on the colorful dead leaves. It’s quiet and alone in the little park. I decided to take a stroll earlier. The smell of fresh rain clears my head of all its problems. The sun begins to peek through the gray clouds.

It is mine. The golden sun that shines and kisses the tops of my shoulders. The wisps of white clouds traveling within a baby blue sky. The gentle breeze that coils itself around my arms providing relief from the warming sun. The sapphire sea and its serene waves rolling gently out to shore onto the finely grained sand. It is all mine.

Today I got the chance to visit a new community park in the Pacific Northwest. It happened to be on beautiful day during spring. As I was taking in the sights and there was a slight breeze that carried the scent of cut grass. The park looked so pristine, as if it had been landscaped with scissors. I chose a seat that was near the playground to eat my sack lunch. The sound of children throughout the park carried on the breeze. As I relaxed in the warmth, I finished my lunch slowly. The lunch was simple yet perfect for the moment. A turkey sandwich, with a few pepper slices to add some zing. I made a point to enjoy the serenity of it all, trying to forget about my worries of the day; what would be pressing tomorrow. The atmosphere that day seemed

Every step strained my burning muscles. I gasped for air as I sprinted down to the finish line. Sweat dripped down my face in the ninety degree heat. My eyes fixated on the runner in front of me. I leaped in front of her just as we passed the finish line, but all I could think of at that moment was, “Why am I doing this?”