Descriptive Essay

As I made my way through the vast horizontal rows of blueberry bushes overlooking Mt. Hood, the coldness of the morning air took with it the tiredness of five hours of sleep from my body. This coldness was later missed as the burning sun beat down on me as I crouched down reaching for the bluest blueberries to fill my bucket. As drops of sweat descended from my forehead, with every step I took the sweatpants and long sleeved shirt I wore stuck to my body. Every day after work I rubbed my hands…

“Baseball was, is, and always will be to me the best game in the world.” - Babe Ruth My favorite place to be is a baseball field. I am most comfortable when I am playing baseball. There is no more relaxing feeling to me than trotting out to shortstop while the hot, golden brown dirt kicks up from my heels. As soon as I take a step out on the field, I forget everything outside of baseball. Before every game, I warm up by taking ground balls. As simple and meaningless as this sounds, it is one…

The end of the line is just the beginning. As a multitude of people swarm, all wanting to the get to a limited number of places, the minutes begin to add up. My focus only on the tick-tock echoing in my head. Each trip is a cost benefit analysis: each second waiting and the value of money versus in the moment and happiness. Six Flags — the ultimate math problem. The very first variable I run into is parking. There’s no close spots because everyone managed to get there the second the park opened.…

‘Le Rein’ It is logically explained that we are all in some way explorers in time, crossing the continuum through the universe. As you relax and simply sit to read your book, time is swirling around you. The future is like grains of sand filtering through your fingers, spiraling and metamorphosing into the past as every second passes. Everything that you are executing at this precise moment in time is rapidly descending into the past. Close your eyes for a moment and block out your…

1.One cool Halloween night, two kids were exploring down a foggy dirt road. Not looking for anything in particular just being nosey and wanted to know more about this "haunted house". It lays beyond the two tallest pines trees, but still has never been seen.. When the two kids reached the two tallest pine trees they saw nothing, until a little girl with two perfectly curled blonde pig tails approached them and grabbed the two kids hands. They were never seen again but they saw everything, and…

It has a feeling an atmosphere like no other. It may look like just an ordinary grey pole barn from the pothole filled parking lot, but inside it's such an electrifying place. As I walk into the hockey rink it's like I can feel my head clear, it must be the frigid air. Fans fill the stands, children fill the locker room, and the love for the game fills the rink. As the front door opens and you enter the cold stings your nostrils, and the sound of the buzzer rings your ears. From the stands…

I drove out to the gravel road that had taken my friend’s life. It was a single car accident in which she struck loose gravel and rolled her brown, Ford Escape SUV multiple times. She was not wearing her seatbelt and was ejected through her sunroof. I put my vehicle in park and stepped onto the loose pieces of rock. The towing company had taken her vehicle, but they had not picked up all the pieces. Bits of yellow reflective lights were mixed in with the shattered pieces of red brake lights…

The sound of ice clinking against a glass, grasped in the frail women 's trembling hand fills the white noise. While silence fills the room the warmth of the sun shines on a familiar face. She was beautiful despite her age. Her eyes beamed as if she was fifty years younger which are fixed on the not so young man beside her. He was aged, but in a fine wine type of way. He is a gentle man who 's hands are worn from many years of handwork. The way he looks at her, it is something special. It looks…

When someone mentions New Jersey, what do you envision? Many have called it the “armpit of America” or refer to it as “Dirty Jersey”. My home state of New Jersey is none of those and I want to share with you the “real” New Jersey as opposed to the New Jersey that is often represented by the media. New Jersey usually comes across as being filled with a bunch of Jersey Shore people who don’t pump their own gas, but in reality it has a family rich environment, especially in my hometown of…

Contextual Architecture In 2003 my family moved to a house in a newly built part of town in the neighborhood of Lamplight Village. Based on the Lamplight Village painting by Thomas Kinkade, it was beautiful. Not what you would expect from a Las Vegas home, but beautiful nonetheless. The facade of the two story home was light brown horizontal wood siding with big chocolate colored shutters, only for show of course. It had a spacious covered porch, a picturesque window seat and large leafy trees…