Lake Descriptive Writing
The morning sunlight, slipping through a thin opening through the tent, reached in to tap my cheeks with a tinge of warmth. Laying on my back, my sleeping bag clinging tight to my Autumn chilled body, I began listening to the glorious melodies of the nearby river singing its way through the valley. Soon I noticed small heaps of leaves that gathered on the top of the mesh roof of my pentagonal shaped tent. Above them, was a spattering of leaves that had just parachuted from their trees, gracefully somersaulting and swaying down to meet its fallen brethren on top of my tent. Stepping outside the tent I immediately noticed something different, there was more leaves, more water, and more vivid color at the park this year. Indeed, it was going
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to be a memorable Fall experience at my favorite park in Autumn – Yosemite.
Walking on paths of fallen brown, red, and yellow leaves, I made my way through the valley floor. The air was shuddering with the sounds of bird chirps, occasional wolf howls, and the whooshing of water from the still pregnant waterfalls. The loudest noise however was my heavy hiking boots crushing and crunching the last life of the fallen leaves below me. Making my way through the Valley, I was surrounded by massive walls of sheer solid granite, thousands of feet high, so seamlessly blended with the multi colored tree lined floor of the valley, that it looked like a gigantic football stadium. Some gray marbled, glacially made canyon walls leaned back lazily from the valley, while other walls stood erect, like a guard protecting the entrance to the valley. It seemed that God himself had a massive block of granite and decided to sculpt this majestic valley. The valley floor was covered with groves of trees that they seemed painted with the brightest shades of orange, yellow, and red. On those areas not covered by trees, there were meadows filled with beds of fire flamed colored flowers who screamed for attention. It seemed as if the valley floor had become a terrestrial rainbow. To add to the festival of color, there were the brightly covered birds and butterflies dancing about. Smelling the spicy and musky scent of the massive pine trees. I made my way to the granite walls that were endlessly crying water of melting snow.
Making my way up a small incline, the air was cooler and full of a fine mist of water. Below my feet were various baby tributaries of water rushing to meet their mother, the Merced River. Ascending the hill, the thunderous noise of gushing water was everywhere. The pines were now tussling more violently from the wind created by the water pushing the air. Standing a few feet from the fall, I was being overwhelmed by squadrons of supersonic droplets hitting my face. Opening my mouth, I tasted the pure, cool, and refreshing water. However, the droplets of water were hitting the back of my throat so ferociously, that I had to close my mouth. As the water raced of the granite’s ledge, it seemingly separated in countless of streaking shooting stars. At times, the fall was swaying from left to right with some water falling and some water seemingly floating up through the sky. The fall was like a ribbon tied to a tree, undulating through the air. At other times, a gust of wind would lift the fall from its edge, like a carpet being ruffled, revealed a majestic rainbow to match the valley floor. As the fall is being slapped about against the granite wall, a loud clasping sound can be heard, as well as explosion like sounds once the water hit the earth. Sufficiently wet, it was time to pay the visit Yosemite’s most stunning creature.
Hastily walking through the groves of trees being caressed by the whispering wind.
I was now on a trail, bounded by tall trees - littered with acorns and perennially shaded from sunlight. Leaving the trees, I entered a meadow full of light. Beds of glorious yellow and vibrant purple flowers, contrasted beautifully by rows of bushes of light green. The flora surrounded a small lake so still and shiny, that it reflected objects almost perfectly. The volume of the lake was the largest I’ve seen in Autumn, due to the copious amount of snowfall the past winter. Peering on the surface of the lake, I saw the image of the seductive Half Dome admiring itself in the water’s reflection. Directly looking at Half Dome, I marveled at the spectacle of a mountain of pure granite, thousands of feet high, having been glacially cut in half to perfection. Showing the effects of millions of years of attacking wind, rain, and snow, the exposed face of Half Dome is varied in color, from various stonewashed shades of gray to off white. Soon the faded colors of Half Dome were replaced and bathed by a vibrant orange - red hue of light sent from the setting sun. The mountain glowed like iron being forged by a blacksmith. Within minutes, the sunlight bid adue and Half Dome returned to its repose of faded
majesty.
The Fall experience at Yosemite is always exhilarating, and my favorite park to visit during the most colorful time of year. This year, the park was exponentially infused with contrasting and complimenting colors. Vegetation hues were more saturated and rainbows from dancing mists of water were more intense. Even the rainbows painted on the parks polished granite walls were more pronounced. Also, copious snowfall turbo-charged normally trimly waterfalls into still screaming jets of water whose power to create wind endlessly tickling the trees nearby. Even though the initial snow of the season has yet to arrive, many of higher granite peaks retain a coif of snow that serves as a meeting place for the manly granite and the deep blue sky. Truly, one must thank God for providing us with this wonderous spectacle.
to be a memorable Fall experience at my favorite park in Autumn – Yosemite.
Walking on paths of fallen brown, red, and yellow leaves, I made my way through the valley floor. The air was shuddering with the sounds of bird chirps, occasional wolf howls, and the whooshing of water from the still pregnant waterfalls. The loudest noise however was my heavy hiking boots crushing and crunching the last life of the fallen leaves below me. Making my way through the Valley, I was surrounded by massive walls of sheer solid granite, thousands of feet high, so seamlessly blended with the multi colored tree lined floor of the valley, that it looked like a gigantic football stadium. Some gray marbled, glacially made canyon walls leaned back lazily from the valley, while other walls stood erect, like a guard protecting the entrance to the valley. It seemed that God himself had a massive block of granite and decided to sculpt this majestic valley. The valley floor was covered with groves of trees that they seemed painted with the brightest shades of orange, yellow, and red. On those areas not covered by trees, there were meadows filled with beds of fire flamed colored flowers who screamed for attention. It seemed as if the valley floor had become a terrestrial rainbow. To add to the festival of color, there were the brightly covered birds and butterflies dancing about. Smelling the spicy and musky scent of the massive pine trees. I made my way to the granite walls that were endlessly crying water of melting snow.
Making my way up a small incline, the air was cooler and full of a fine mist of water. Below my feet were various baby tributaries of water rushing to meet their mother, the Merced River. Ascending the hill, the thunderous noise of gushing water was everywhere. The pines were now tussling more violently from the wind created by the water pushing the air. Standing a few feet from the fall, I was being overwhelmed by squadrons of supersonic droplets hitting my face. Opening my mouth, I tasted the pure, cool, and refreshing water. However, the droplets of water were hitting the back of my throat so ferociously, that I had to close my mouth. As the water raced of the granite’s ledge, it seemingly separated in countless of streaking shooting stars. At times, the fall was swaying from left to right with some water falling and some water seemingly floating up through the sky. The fall was like a ribbon tied to a tree, undulating through the air. At other times, a gust of wind would lift the fall from its edge, like a carpet being ruffled, revealed a majestic rainbow to match the valley floor. As the fall is being slapped about against the granite wall, a loud clasping sound can be heard, as well as explosion like sounds once the water hit the earth. Sufficiently wet, it was time to pay the visit Yosemite’s most stunning creature.
Hastily walking through the groves of trees being caressed by the whispering wind.
I was now on a trail, bounded by tall trees - littered with acorns and perennially shaded from sunlight. Leaving the trees, I entered a meadow full of light. Beds of glorious yellow and vibrant purple flowers, contrasted beautifully by rows of bushes of light green. The flora surrounded a small lake so still and shiny, that it reflected objects almost perfectly. The volume of the lake was the largest I’ve seen in Autumn, due to the copious amount of snowfall the past winter. Peering on the surface of the lake, I saw the image of the seductive Half Dome admiring itself in the water’s reflection. Directly looking at Half Dome, I marveled at the spectacle of a mountain of pure granite, thousands of feet high, having been glacially cut in half to perfection. Showing the effects of millions of years of attacking wind, rain, and snow, the exposed face of Half Dome is varied in color, from various stonewashed shades of gray to off white. Soon the faded colors of Half Dome were replaced and bathed by a vibrant orange - red hue of light sent from the setting sun. The mountain glowed like iron being forged by a blacksmith. Within minutes, the sunlight bid adue and Half Dome returned to its repose of faded
majesty.
The Fall experience at Yosemite is always exhilarating, and my favorite park to visit during the most colorful time of year. This year, the park was exponentially infused with contrasting and complimenting colors. Vegetation hues were more saturated and rainbows from dancing mists of water were more intense. Even the rainbows painted on the parks polished granite walls were more pronounced. Also, copious snowfall turbo-charged normally trimly waterfalls into still screaming jets of water whose power to create wind endlessly tickling the trees nearby. Even though the initial snow of the season has yet to arrive, many of higher granite peaks retain a coif of snow that serves as a meeting place for the manly granite and the deep blue sky. Truly, one must thank God for providing us with this wonderous spectacle.