Winter Descriptive Writing

When I woke up again from my deep sleep, I got re-dressed and headed out to my car. The snow was still deep as ever, the wind was still bitter, dry, and freezing cold. I warmed my car before I headed out and I headed back inside for a little while to wait for the car to heat. As I sat inside the warm and cozy house my mother warmed me to watch out for the thick spots of snow and ice because I could slide and crash into something. As I continued to sit in the warm house, I started to remember things my parents would tell me about people sliding off the road and going off the road. Of course I had the thought in my head that it would

And sometime the snow would be lift clean from the ground and up into the air, and by and by it would be all clapped to the ground as though there had been no wind at all, straightaway it would rise and fly again.

A long time ago, it was a man named Robert Harryson. Robert and his wife Ana lived a happy life with their 3 sons, Alex, Will and Ethan and the twin girls that soon will arrive. They had a good economy and a big house after Robert had sold a part of his big successful business. Everything was just perfect. When the family started to grow bigger they decided to hire a housemade, Sarah, so Robert and Ana could spend all their free time with their beloved children. A couple of month were going and then the twins Emily and Katie arrived. Their big brothers couldn't be happier over not just one, but two small babysisters!! The boys adore them and gave them a snowglobe that they had got from their grandmother.

The soft crunch of a leaf underfoot feels like fall in a way that not many things do. It screams, "fall is here!" louder than the town crier over a megaphone. The sound sends us all diving into our drawers, pulling out scarves and gloves, turtlenecks and boots -- and it seems like everyone at the park got the memo.

The first snowfall of the year had finally arrived one late November night, blanketing the small cabin and surrounding forest with fresh, powdery snow. The wind howled through the leafless trees, often relieving the weighed down branches of their snowy burden. The smooth and unblemished snow coated everything, leaving the road to the cabin indistinguishable from the surrounding terrain.

My dad and I had always lived in New York City. After 15 years of experience and the guidance of my older brother, you could say that I knew my way around town. The coffee shops with the best lattes, the highest swinging swing sets in every park, and most importantly, the buildings with the best views. You would think that after living here for so long I would get sick of seeing the view of the city every day, but it just never gets old. The best spot is at the top of my apartment building, on the far northeast corner, looking over the horizon and onto the Hudson. There was no other way of completing my day, no matter the rain, snow, or blazing heat I sat on that rooftop every night as the sun disappeared, along with the overworked New Yorkers for the night. The most interesting part is, every single night, the color of the sky is always slightly different. No sunset was ever the exact same. Anyways, as I was walking back down the stairs to my condo, 7B, I got the jitters in my stomach, I was beyond excited for tomorrow, the first day of Winter Break. My older brother, Todd, was taking me and my best friend Hannah up to Vermont to go skiing. I opened our apartment door, took a quick shower, and fell asleep with Cooper on my lap while watching Full House.

As I finished packing my suitcase the night before we left for Churchill the excitement started to settle in; the next morning we were leaving to hunt my first snow goose season. For anyone who doesn't know snow goose are now considered a bit of a nuisance out on the tundra, the once endangered species is now one of the most abundant waterfowl on the continent. Snow geese can eat their way across the tundra very quickly, destroying their habitat as they migrate through not only for themselves, but for other animals that also depend on the vegetation. I have hunted waterfowl before, harvesting the odd snow that was mixed in with the flock of Canadas but this was the first time I had traveled to target the species. That night I could hardly sleep I was so anxious.

I slowly crept around a corner engraved by the trail of smashed snow, getting ready for the huge drop. Of course, I made my uncle go first because like always, I am a scaredy cat. He softly drifted smoothly across the surface, spraying snow all around the backs of the skis. Turning around, asking for an applause, he smiled and chuckled like the hill was a breeze. My huge feet clomped loudly on the surface of the snow. I positioned myself forward and pushed off with my poles. The rushing wind paralyzed my face as I tried to focus on my path. The bushy trees zoomed past me, giving me this rush of adrenaline. I finally came to a halting stop right next to my uncle and waited for the others to join

The condensed snow under my feet was crushed with every step. The snow was around four inches deep, my boots made a large enough indent, that I made a noticeable trail of holes with every step. The sun had vanished behind a mountain, the sky’s light had gone from an amiable orange, to a mellow blue. I could see outline of the moon between two clouds, and the air’s bite grew colder by the moment. I had taken a detour, past a thin slice of trees near to my neighborhood. Even for a forest, it was a cold, silent place. I used to come out to places like this as a kid, quiet places where I would sit and be alone for hours. I guess I forgot how often that was, but for the moment, I had something else to worry about.

It was a normal winter morning. I woke up freezing my butt off. The night before we

I woke up to a loud-wailing scream of sirens. The sirens of the police cars and ambulance always wakes me up in the morning; it’s a tradition. Instead of getting out of bed I just lay there knowing that if I get up I’ll have to face the reality of life. I got up anyway knowing I would have to get up sooner or later. The dark wood floors were freezing. I felt like it was winter and I had just got stuck in the snow. I ran over to my drawers and quickly took out one pair of fluffy socks. I put them on at the same rate I took them out and let out a sigh of relief once I was

I was twelve years old when my family moved to the mountains of Humboldt County we moved at the beginning of winter and my father said there would be snow where we were going to live. I had never seen snow before and I couldn’t wait to build snowmen, throw snowballs and build igloos, like I had seen children on television do. A child’s excitement blossomed at the prospect of a new winter paradise

I got out of the car and I saw trees covered in white snow. When I smelled out of the car it was cold. It was like christmas, just that there were no decorations. It looked awesome and fun. The mountains were big and snowy. I Saw a rabbit and sled racer .I heard snow fall and it was loud. I heard wolves howling. I touched snow and it felt like ice. I tasted the snow and it was

Misty dew covers the entire surface of the field. The yellowing corn stalks stand erect and proud until my grandpas tractor comes to end their growth. Autumn slowly weaves its way in and leaves a stain of brilliant color in its wake. Not everyone enjoys such colors, but when you take a second to step outside your doorstep, and look at all the wonders that surround you, you’d be surprised at how marvelous the world can truly be. To me, Autumn is a time for relishing in the colors. Soaking in the oranges and reds while sitting by a warm fire. It’s a time for remembering that everything does end, but it does not have to end in the dreadful way we think it will. Autumn is a time for the closeness of others to keep out the chill of the morning and the starry-eyed darkness of the night.

It was a cold day, so cold that your arms start to sting as if a needle is impaling the surface of your skin. The wind applies a force which feels as if your face is oozing with thick crimson red blood. The gray puffy clouds covered the sky and dropped small snowflakes onto the road’s surface. A man stood there, freezing, clearing the coat of thick white snow from the concrete road. His nose runs with a river of snot that floods out when the cold wind strikes. His sense of smell is heavily clogged by the slimy snot, but he can still smell the scent of the steamy hot chocolate which sits on the top of his snow covered car. His feet start to numb because of the cold flood which soaks through his boots to his white, silky socks. His feet feel as if he stepped into the freezing cold ocean. As if he fell through ice and he was stuck standing there. The vast pile of the ice white snow feels almost like a quicksand around his black rubber boot. Foggy figures of people shovel the big piles of snow off the sidewalks. They scrape and pick at the glossy white ice which sticks to the sidewalk like a little boy clinging to his mother's side. His feet still sting as if he was stepping on pins and needles. His hands are damp with sweat from grasping the curved metal shaft attached to a socket which holds the blade. The blade cuts holes into the thick powdered snow which is removed from the endless pile. The jet black shovel is filled with slushy snow and crystal shards of ice. The end of