Mt. Harrison Descriptive Writing

The majestic mountain towers over the Washington state landscape and can be visible from most vantage point in the Seattle metro area. See the main Seattle page here.

As the soldiers lay in the rat filled trenches, with bullet's whistling overhead. While the soldiers sleep the enemy never stops throwing bombs near the trench, as they try to catch the sleeping soldiers. Every night when they sleep they need to bear with rats biting their wounds caused by the cold. All the while surrounded by the whistling bullets of the enemies. As a bomb goes off feet away from the soldiers, they hear a quit whistle blow signalling for them to get back to the cold hard war that seems to never end.

During the past summer, I had an experience that changed my life. The experience wasn’t one moment or one day, but rather a whole week with my family and cousins. The reason this trip was so important to me is because I did a lot of things for the first time and it was a great opportunity to explore outside of Minnesota. I really like Montana or any state with mountains, so it was very fun to see and experience all that. But the main reason i’m using this trip for my experience is because I like to think about the future. Going to Montana helped me think about that because I am most likely going to live there or in some state with mountains. It was just extremely fun to think about.

Waking up before the rising sun on the morning of the hunt left me feeling groggy with my eyes slow to open and close when blinking. Being extra quiet to not wake up my mother was a main challenge, trying to tippy toe around the cabin and dodging the creaky spots in the floor. Prior to eating breakfast, I began getting dressed. Due to the fact that I was in northern Minnesota, the weather was bone chilling and the wind would seep right through your layers onto your unexpecting skin. Once I had put on my long johns, sweatpants, and long sleeve shirt with a tee shirt on top I began to make my breakfast. I had decided to have scrambled eggs that were cooked to perfection with the yolk golden mixed in with the pure snow white egg white and flakes of pepper sprinkled throughout and toast with butter melted onto the crunchy outside making it soft with homemade strawberry jam spread thick on top.

Nestled snuggly into the Blue Ridge Mountains was Ridgecrest, North Carolina. Getting there was no joke seeing as the ears popped every five minutes, but the scenery was beautiful.

I was surrounded by the sound of graphite moving anxiously over paper. The clamor filled my ears and collided with the dull ticking of the clock that hung over the SAT proctor’s disorderly, graying hair. There were only eighteen minutes left and I still had not written a single word. The prompt reverberated in my head like a ringing bell, but I could not form cohesive thoughts. My heart raced and my fingernails dug into the curve of my palm in panic, leaving small, pallid impressions in their wake. Pleading with myself, I considered the page that lay askew on the on the chipped desk in front of me. I wrote a desperate and painfully arbitrary sentence that I quickly erased. Nothing sounded right. I had studied and prepared for this moment with

I have only been at Marist for a few days, but the many experiences I have had here made me realize how fortunate I am to be a part of this community. One of my favorite parts of being at Marist, at least while the weather is nice, is walking to class. The view of the Hudson River with the hills in the background and the train sometimes passing by is like a scene from a painting. It is such an enormous difference from what I have been used to my whole life. Gone are the days of having four minutes to walk between classes trying to push between tons of people in cramped hallways. At Marist, there are lots of students outside walking to class, jogging, driving, or biking. I really like the freedom of the campus where everyone is doing their own thing. It sometimes feels like walking through Central Park.

In our brochure, the Mount Willard trail’s level read moderate and Jason glanced up from the page and offered a warning.

There are many things that make up being a Meridian Hawk. You can’t just expect to be a Hawk after just a few days. Everybody needs experience of how this school district is special and different from the others. There are many reasons for being proud of this school. All of the teachers are greatly understanding to where they make learning fun, the school field trips are amazing ( we are very grateful), and I am delighted about this new building that they made for us. I feel special because it’s as if someone cares about all of the students. Any other school isn’t as different as this one. Things at Meridian are rare and we are remarkably lucky to have a great place to learn.

It is the year 2032 and I am a profile-writer for GQ. This particular year is monumental because it marks the 75th year of GQ‘s publication and my editor, Jim Nelson, plans to do it big for the entire world to see — literally. To mark the occasion, the magazine is featuring the 75 most stylish men of the past 75 years.

Standing full of strength, it was obvious this steed was itching to run as if he just became a wild mustang. His poise made it clear that he wanted to run with every ounce of his strength, a sense of adventure stirs in my mind, taking in the aroma of freshly cut grass, he lets out a raging loud whinny, for a split second time stops. Once, his movement begins again, it becomes formless but rapid creating a calming yet mighty rhythm I am oh so familiar with. Shuffling forth slowly, my legs, clutch tighter, goose bumps appear resembling stars in the night, while beneath the saddle generates thundering hooves used such as wings, galloping at full speed with no worries in our mind. As the crisp breeze touches my face I know my spirit becomes free,

Without responding to Kathy’s remark, Louise glanced toward Betty and whispered, “I’m sorry, please continue.” The server brought her another glass.

A classic piece of scenery in the northwest is Mount Rainier. It provide a spectacular backdrop to everything from Olympia to Seattle and beyond. Yet many have never set foot onto the tallest mountain in the region.

As I got off the plane, the scorching sun was already baking me. I had just landed in warm and sunny Arizona after spending the winter months freezing in Indiana. Unfortunately, I was only able to spend a week in Phoenix while my parents were doing business. My parents, Wendy and Aaron Joslin, were in Phoenix for a seminar on selling and producing cabinets. Despite the dull information on the new technology of cabinets, it was a week that taught me how to appreciate nature while also peaking my interest in the history of America, for that reason, I will always think pleasantly back to the time spent in Arizona.

When the sun slowly peeps over the range of mountains, birds shake the morning dew off their feathers and give a cheerful song that would lift even the most sorrowful of spirits. A light fog wraps around the mountain range, reaching to touch every bit of life thriving there. The slight chill in the air is enough to give a gentle shiver, but not enough for the need of a jacket. A breeze tickles the trees, making their leaves shake and sway with laughter. Sunlight seeps in past the thick canopy of branches with hopes of being able to reach the damp mountain earth. The mountains are the best place to live to be relaxed, see the most beauty, and never get bored.