It is white. Whiter than the curtains slung in the sky, whiter than the blanket of snow, whiter than the petals of daisies carpeting the doughy path. Within the valley, banks fill with the white soup,creating an opaque painting of the landscape. The surrounding atmosphere slips into a deep coma of slumber. A slumber so deep, even the rumble of stock trucks cannot stir a waking breath from the landscape. Baring his sharp teeth, the breeze eats away at the dying leaves still clinging to the branches. Following down the branch, leads to the teeming population of life, gathering supplies for a cold winter. Scrambling about, like a society in disaster.
Listen. Listen to the deep rumble of the blue velvet as it tumbles towards the edge. Down, down, down it tumbles, knotting itself into a distressed white knot. Droplets hiss at the slick grey boulders lying at the bottom, as if in repulsion. Birds sing their last song as they retreat into dark hollows of the tree. A tree, with one last sigh, bows to the sky. A tree that will sink into the soil and meet the needs of the younger sapling to thrive.
It is morning. The only light struggles to peek from beneath the heavy curtains. Morning breath of rotting leaves rolls through the valley settling in every nook. Beads of water cling to the lonely rabbit’s fur as it feeds on the last living shrub. The sinking sand is a battlefield for stragglers passing through. Morning is when little thrives. No animal wants to climb from within their warm burrow to face the harsh temperatures. No plant wakes to open their leaves, for the sky supplies no sunlight. Nothing and No one. No one dares to venture past the embrace of their bed.
Look. Look at the river frothing at the mouth. Look how it takes everything and everyone with little mercy. Look how the river steals the stream, pulling and twisting as if it were prey. The vein carves its way through the bare landscape.Stones struggle against the roll of the current, branches drown in the downward pull of the boulders while the white rapids blind the bottom from view. Any person to walk past would be oblivious to the storm beneath its smooth skin.
And soon you will feel the warmth of the sun stroking your cool cheeks. A valley no longer hides among the covers of the fog. Sunlight slips through the loosening grip of the fog. Fingertips of light trace gentle outlines tinting the scene in a soft orange. Dewdrops decorate the surrounding forest of pine, like a shop of chandeliers. Among these trees, birds appear to accompany the morning chorus. Plants reach towards the sun in praise and people open the curtains for another show of the day.
Hi Jess,
A great start!
Look to think a little more about your vocabulary choices in places as you are repeating many words or phrases in close proximity to each other.
Remember to think about figurative devices, particularly personification in order to develop your scene further.
I encourage you to experiment with your syntax more- think about varying lengths for effect.
Mrs. P
Hi Jess,
My advice from above still applies. I would like to see you using your syntax more deliberately and varying some of your vocabulary choices further.
In addition to this, consider:
Looking back at your work to edit for technical accuracy (spelling, punctuation and grammar). Look carefully at your grammar. You have many small errors that hamper the clear and fluid communication of your description.
In places, you have used sentence structures (syntax) that do not flow or come across a bit clumsy. Look to read your work out loud to yourself so that you can catch these and make changes.
You have started to used personification really well in this piece- good job! Look to further develop your barren, isolated tone through other devices such as metaphor or strong verb choices. Remember, prepositions help the reader to build a clear physical sense of your scene.
Mrs. P