"Descriptive writing on snow" Essays and Research Papers

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    Ocean Descriptive Writing

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    For the first time‚ I struggled with my buoyancy; I don’t know how fast I sank‚ but it was more than one foot per second. The pressure was intense. I needed to equalize; I pushed the air connector on BC-jacket to get a shot from the tank to counteract my sinking‚ letting the air out slowly to descend at a proper rate. I moved one step up‚ two steps down until I touched the ocean floor. The echoed sound of my breathing jolted out of sync with my movements. A thermocline from above and below traveled

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    Storm Descriptive Writing

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    The once sunny day of the beach was tainted with a storm brewing above. As everyone scattered off the beach‚ they quickly grabbed their possessions as rain fell down upon them. The music playing form the cafes and rides suddenly come to a stop as their customers quickly disappear. The once happy sound of laughter was silent as the grave. A dark shadow stretches its arms form over the ocean once more and the once mighty sun is blotted out. Even the laughing seagull is nowhere to be found for they

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    I knew he was leaving. I could see the anxious anticipation in my mothers body language in the days before. I knew he was leaving. I coud hear him still rummaging around in the closet‚ carefully selecting the uniforms that he would wear when he was gone. I felt a slight pain in my chest knowing that I would now become the man of the house once again. I saw him lay his duffel bag along with his carry on in the corner of the living room that he and I had painted the month before. I glanced up to the

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    Bar Descriptive Writing

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    Autumnal weather is nothing compared to the winter‚ freezing my veins and forming cracks that run up and down my arms as I start to break‚ but every tear is freezing as quickly as it flows. I cannot help but feeling that things are beginning to fall apart. It was as if you induced me into a long lasting coma where my dreams were more appealing than the world you left me in‚ walking alone as a lonely vessel of what I once was. Left in the dark‚ much like the night at the bar‚ my most prominent memory

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    green and black alarm clock goes off on the tableside next to my eardrum. I roll over onto my right side and hit the dismiss button turning off the vexatious sound. Slithering out of bed‚ I flick on the lights and slide on the usual black shirt‚ black jeans‚ and Converse; since it is the middle of January I put on a black beanie. I glide down the stairs and I topple over a colossal cardboard box and assuming it has Richard written in illegible letters‚ I know my stepdad has taken residence in my

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    It was the 7th-grade year and everyone knew me well. One day‚ when I came home from school‚ there was no one there. Creek. Crack. Squeak. Squeak. I heard many small noises in my house. Then as I looked around‚ all my windows were wide open. There was a huge wind blowing through the air‚ harder than a hurricane. It felt like an air conditioner in the hot sweaty summer. Then suddenly‚ “ding‚ ding‚ ding!” My phone notification went off. The notification came from a social media app called Kik. The notification

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    Without hesitation‚ riding in a bus is the most boring‚ gloomy places I can imagine being in since it has haunted consecutive saturday mornings. I sat eerily awaiting the early 6:00 bus. The hard cheap metal bench rests uneasy beneath me. I loom in darkness seeing as the rising sun hid fearfully beneath the bleak clouds. The only lights in sight are are the dim streetlights across from me and the faint glow from my phone display. Weakly off in the distance the sound of the crosswalk signal rings

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    The Windy City This past summer‚ I went on a trip to what I now call one of my favorite places. The spirit of Chicago embodied me. I had always wanted to visit Chicago. I had seen many photos of the beautiful Windy City‚ and my friends often spoke of their visit to the city. Once I arrived‚ I did not want to return home. I was ready to leave my old life behind and start over. Going to Chicago opened my eyes‚ and taught me that I am meant to live in the city. Walking downtown made me feel like an

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    Hunt Descriptive Writing

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    The Hunt Your alarm goes off waking you from a deep sleep. You sit up and open your eyes‚ crusty and trying to force themselves shut. As you slowly get all of your hunting clothes on‚ eat‚ load your gun‚ and bundle up your really want to just go back to bed. Finally‚ out the door you go. As you are tiptoeing through the woods‚ leaves crunching under your feet‚ the occasional snap of a twig when you accidently step on a branch‚ you try to make the least amount of noise possible. The cold feel of

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    I walk into the athletic hallway with the aroma of sweaty gym mats‚ grass‚ and cleanser. My head is spinning because of how nervous I am for this game‚ though I am walking confidently to the sounds of music playing in the background‚ coming from the obnoxious football players. My coach acknowledges my presence as I walk into the gym ready to start practice before the game. All my friends rush towards me‚ talking about who’s jersey I am wearing tonight. With all these girl’s around me I am suddenly

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