Lake Descriptive Writing

The sky rumbles with thunder as the charcoal clouds roll over the excessively dark rough watered lake. The clouds are so thick and dark that only a few flickers of light, from the moon, shine through. The depth of the lake appears to have no end, as if anything would get lost if caught in its’ rough currents. Thick and high grass cover the water’s edge. The air becomes thick and icy, making it hard for anyone to breathe. It is the kind of icy feeling that fills the whole entire body, consuming every inch of life within. The kind that send chills down spines. There is the sound of pinging in the distance.

In the short story “Horses of the Night” the author uses horses to represent and symbolize the emotions of the main character Chris. Chris is a young man struggling through the great depression with unrealistic goals of going to college. At the beginning of the story Chris talks to his younger cousin Vanessa about his two horses Duchess and Firefly, which turn out to be imaginary. The horses are described as being sleek and so fast Chris could make

The thundering sound of hooves echoes in my ears as my horse comes barreling down the hill toward me. My whistle had caused him to go crashing through the tall grass and Queen Ann’s Lace in search of me once again. Coming to a sliding stop in front of me, I gently stroke his muzzle. Letting my hands glide over his fuzzy neck and into his jet black mane, I grab ahold and throw myself onto his strong back. We go running through the pasture, scattering wild rabbits and sending sparrows a flight. I watch them fly overhead, their brown wings leading them to rest in the big oak tree that my horse and I come to a halt underneath.

When we got out by the deep part of the lake, I realized that this was where the sharks are. So I started to shake and sweat. We are out too far, and this is really sketchy. I thought.

Horses are a true and pure gift from God as their beauty, grace, and speed is unlike any other animal on Earth. As I move forward up my driveway, listening to my tires crunch on gravel, I think to myself how greater of a sound hooves beating on pavement is. The moment I lay my eyes on any of my four companions in the pasture,

On a day when bleak, biting gusts are thrown at me, I yearn a visit to the moderate, amiable Schwendi Huttë at Waterville Valley. The small settlement is an insignificant, little, red shack compared to the large ski mountain but as important to the skiers as the snow itself. Through the fairytale door and to the left is the epicenter for gathering where I find my ski group. There is a lengthy, ostentatious countertop full of homemade pastries, desserts, and soups that stretches along the back wall. I toss my frigid, orange coat and leather gloves onto the cushioned couch and race straight to the food with eagerness. I am greeted by friendly employees and the overwhelming aromas, and prices, of New England clam chowder, nutty cinnamon rolls, and intense chocolate chip brownies.

The grass blows in the cool breeze, but a chill is in the air, winter is coming. I stop and look around; the pristine white gates surround a lush green pasture still unaffected by the cold. Inside young foals dance to the winds music, playfully kicking and biting at each other, daring the other to a race. I turn toward the silhouette in the distance and spot bright eyes and pricked ears. A whinny reaches my ears and then another responds, it is breakfast time and the horses let me know it. They impatiently stomp their hooves and their warm breath glistens in the cold. I enter the warm barn, the rustle of straw and the sweet smell of these beautiful animals greets me. My day has just begun, but for a moment I pause and go down

Birds chirping, crystal blue water, big towering pine trees mixed with amazing birch trees, and on top of all that the fresh, crisp, pine scented, air. That is what Lake Tomahawk Wisconsin is like. My grandpa owns a cabin up there so we visit it a few times a year. Half of the cabin my grandpa bought and the other half he built with amazing logs of orange colored wood. I love it up there, mainly because: it’s friendly, everything is nearby, and there is still a TON of nature. But anyway, this little situation happened the week of 4th of July.

I grew up in Ohio. For years, every summer we’d go to a family friends house to use their lake house. Looking back, it doesn’t seem like a lot, but I remember spending countless hours snorkeling, swimming, and paddle boarding.

Michigan’s literally translation from the Ojibwa nation is “Large Lake” but the natives know it by the “Great Lakes State.” These names come from the history and prominence of the water features throughout the state. The beginning of shaping the current landscape of the state was with the glaciers. Glaciers are large bodies of ice that travel across land leaving behind deposits and reshaping the land as it moves. The most common features are moraines, drumlins, eskers, till plains, valley trains, kames, and kettles.

“Morgan, Morgan where are you?” I shouted loudly. That was me in fear not knowing where my best friend was, this is because I go on trips with my best friend every year to different states. Somehow she got lost this time, so I will tell you about the one of weirdest experiences I have ever had with her. Just a reminder for myself is to keep an eye on the people you came with.

There once was a story about two little girls. Daddy killed Mommy, and made the two little girls stay quiet. They were sick and tired of Daddys abusive behavior so, one night, they snuck out. The wind roared like a lion in the night, and the trees rustling sounded like screams of innocent people being killed.

My friend, Emma, already had one horse saddled, and the horse looked pristine, like glassy water. At the same time, I ran my fingers through the fur of the horse, Star, and was surprised at how soft, and velvety she was. Suddenly, Emma asked, “Hey

The warm, humid air seeped through the cracked open windows and into the house. You could hear the sounds of birds chirping in the woods behind the house.

The water became infused with my blood and my stomach sank: who knows what was out here. The lake was absolutely huge and terribly deep. The sunlight had completely vanished by leaving the sky full of dark clouds: at least that’s what it looked like, with me now drowning and all.