Write a Blog About Your Favourite Time of Yea
Write a blog entry about your favourite time of year.
‘Light: something that makes things visible or affords illumination: All colours depend on light.’
When there is light, our eyes are awakened to the true beauty of the world, which has been secreted throughout the hard-hitting winter and meticulous spring, in which nature strives to stay alive. A pregnant mother carries her unborn child for nine months as it develops and prepares itself to feel, to smell, to see, to hear, to taste…all such things are at their zenith during September: my favourite time of year.
The air is pure in September; you can respire without hindrance, no colds or illnesses.
The mouths are moving in September; teeth are no longer chattering as people vent all the emotions, which had been veiled under layers of warming winter clothes.
The breeze is gentle in September; a welcoming zephyr that leads the flowers in a waltz.
The colours are vibrant in September; the patterns of the clothes are as loud as an airplane take-off.
The fruit is falling in September; people embrace with waiting arms the harvest of their crops which have ripened through the months.
I am at my own zenith in September when I am springing with energy due to the perfect temperature at which England finds itself during this month, after nine months of deciding whether to rain or shine.
I can wear anything I please or as little as I please, because this is the time of year where skin is unveiled for a light caress of sunshine.
September is the beginning of my year as I begin meet up with friends who have been absent from my life for the past 6 weeks, as I begin to become incomprehensibly excited to start school again, as I begin my accustomed clubs that I enjoy so much.
September subtly attempts to crush and bombard me with the previous, monotonous routine it drags with it; but I bring relaxation, drive and energy to September with which I surpass its sly
‘Light: something that makes things visible or affords illumination: All colours depend on light.’
When there is light, our eyes are awakened to the true beauty of the world, which has been secreted throughout the hard-hitting winter and meticulous spring, in which nature strives to stay alive. A pregnant mother carries her unborn child for nine months as it develops and prepares itself to feel, to smell, to see, to hear, to taste…all such things are at their zenith during September: my favourite time of year.
The air is pure in September; you can respire without hindrance, no colds or illnesses.
The mouths are moving in September; teeth are no longer chattering as people vent all the emotions, which had been veiled under layers of warming winter clothes.
The breeze is gentle in September; a welcoming zephyr that leads the flowers in a waltz.
The colours are vibrant in September; the patterns of the clothes are as loud as an airplane take-off.
The fruit is falling in September; people embrace with waiting arms the harvest of their crops which have ripened through the months.
I am at my own zenith in September when I am springing with energy due to the perfect temperature at which England finds itself during this month, after nine months of deciding whether to rain or shine.
I can wear anything I please or as little as I please, because this is the time of year where skin is unveiled for a light caress of sunshine.
September is the beginning of my year as I begin meet up with friends who have been absent from my life for the past 6 weeks, as I begin to become incomprehensibly excited to start school again, as I begin my accustomed clubs that I enjoy so much.
September subtly attempts to crush and bombard me with the previous, monotonous routine it drags with it; but I bring relaxation, drive and energy to September with which I surpass its sly