Petrichor Descriptive Writing

“For a moment the last sunshine fell with romantic affection on her glowing face; her voice compelled me forward breathlessly as I listened - then the glow faded, each light deserting her with lingering regret, like children leaving a pleasant street at dusk.”

Soft moonlight lit the land and sea kindly, almost as if it were giving gentle kisses. It kissed the sea and the waves it formed, it kissed the drowsy ship which laid on said water, it kissed the sand the waves lapped at, it kissed the grassy cliff above the shore, and it kissed the girl who slept on said cliff.

Memories of the night before became a vivid memory in the recesses of his dimly lit mind, underneath the sunlight's intruding yet blissful gaze and the sensation of silk against his bare skin felt like a euphoria, a river of midnight encased his slender figure and with the scrunch of his refined nose and furrowed knit of his thin eyebrows, he rose from his slumber. Delicate fingertips leisurely danced across the silken sheets which lost its assuaging warmth only to discern that he was gone, Padding through the spacious house far too big for two alone to fill, and too much of a burden for one to find comfort in. To see his lover, clad in a suit that managed to take his breath away immediately

He waited until the night’s 11th hour. By now the Princess rested in the highest tower of the castle, locked away from the dangerous world, yet so oblivious to the dangers that which fated the rest of her life. Silently the peasant journeyed outside, where he stopped at the wall of the tower where she lay. He watched her in the darkness from below, lifting his face to her, letting the light rest on his every surface of darkness. The night was cloudless. The winds wailed between the motionless oak trees as its thin branches clawed out, ever so slightly disturbing the leaves with its hostile screeches. Not the thick moss of the trees nor the damp leaves squirming in his toes could distract the peasant from so enticing a scent. All that encircled him was the sweetness of lavender and rosewood, filling his entire being as he sunk into the grass, like sand washed over by the water, with every breeze passing

On a warm, sunny Texas afternoon I walked through the Southlake strip mall. In the air a pungent odor danced around me. My hand went immediately to my nose, to block out the smell. The sun’s heat came glaring down at me as I shielded my hands in front of my face to keep the ray of light from hurting my sensitive eyes. The clouds seemed to dance across the vibrant blue sky. The pounding of my feet echoed across the

Grass tickles my bare feet, and the sultry night air caresses my skin as I stand facing the forest. With the moon full and glistening over the dew covered greenery, I am enraptured. The gentle breeze wraps around me like a lovers embrace and I am lost to my surroundings. The nights are beginning to cool with the new season and are a welcomed relief to the waning summer heat.

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 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.

The line feeds through a small opening in the mother tree’s arms. She welcomes me with open arms; her sharp branches leave the memory of her on my skin. The kind wind kisses my small scrapes, tickling my hairs, causing them to stand tall on my arms. I soar into a breathtaking bright clearing causing my hairs to rest at ease. The warmth surrounds me like a blanket and a cloud covers the sun, allowing me to fully experience the astonishing serenity. The dull light is peaceful; it calms me. Somehow I am speeding through the sky but I am more relaxed than I have ever been. This energy is new to me; I am free to feel any and every emotion I have ever had. The overwhelming feeling urges me to yell. I call to the birds and let my heart overflow with fervor.

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.

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.

We were all scared, but I couldn't let expulsion get in my way of having the perfect summer That was the morning I noticed Rayjean absent . As we were going to breakfast I noticed a long line leading to Denaples. The sun shined bright that day, the light trying it's best to penetrate the thickness of the fog, but as hard as it tried the light just couldn’t. The red flowers shined bright thought the fog it was truly beautiful, the flower was as red as blood. Though hard to see, Dionne Green had shiny green grass neatly trimmed to the millimeter everything was great except the humidity. I looked under me, I was stepping on waxed tile stones, they looked perfect. Sebastian stared at me with a grin on his face, he motioned me to the large statue, of the man holding the cross. On his knees. I didn't know what he was thinking, then he said, " Time to climb." I immediately without hesitation agreed I gave

My big girl panties chafe inside my smarty pants, they flip, they flap. So many marble heads cuff and swat at dead air. We’ve all seen it, the vile attempts to chaw and sup pabulum from a few stony elders and upright looker flies. The common-place ambiance of sirens and cat-callings are hushed during transit by stretched-tight drawstrings; we’re weather-beaten like the soldier rows of silver sliding doors.

The sunset was not spectacular that day. The vivid ruby and tangerine streaks that so often caressed the blue brow of the sky were sleeping, hidden behind the heavy mists. There are some days when the sunlight seems to dance, to weave and frolic with tongues of fire between the blades of grass. Not on that day. That evening, the yellow light was sickly. It diffused softly through the gray curtains with a shrouded light that just failed to illuminate. High up in the treetops, the leaves swayed, but on the ground, the grass was silent, limp and unmoving. The sun set and the earth waited.

It was a fine autumn day that Ethan promised to hang out with me. The leaves were at their brightest, oranges and reds faintly covered the ground, slightly moving in the cool, dry breeze. Light clouds scattered the sky as the sun was starting to set, ending the beautiful day. Ethan had arranged for us to meet