Beyond the Orchard
Anna Donnelly
Mrs. Ybarra
English III DC – 7th
10/17/13
Beyond the Orchard Step by step, crunch by crunch, my bare feet tread over the dried, brown pine needles under me. I look to my left and see green, as far as I can see. Green everywhere, carpeting the ground, coating the trees, and screening the trail from the persimmon colored sky overhead. I look to my right and see a decaying wooden fence separating the trail from a grove of trees with little green fruits hanging off of the branches, just waiting to ripen. As I continue on, past the apple orchard, I become enveloped in green nature. I’m overwhelmed with the smell of green leaves and nature all around me. After a few more minutes of walking, I finally arrive at my destination. One foot at a time, I climb the old stone steps up to the cliff. Immediately I feel the strong gusts of wind blowing across my face and whipping my hair back. I hear the sound of waves lapping against the shore, calling to me. I step up to the edge so that the only thing that keeps me from tumbling over into the strong wind is a 4-foot high stone ledge. I lean against the ledge, peering down below. As I looked out, I see the shoreline that has been tempting me with its music for the past few minutes. The water is so many different shades of blue; deep indigo, dark teal, and bright cerulean all in one. Everything just makes me feel like I’m small and nothing compared to the vast stretch before me. In contrast to the slow moving water below me, I see the sky facing me. In the sky, the sun sets like a flaming ball of scarlet fire near the horizon. Even as the dark night creeps closer and closer, the breeze doesn’t slow. In fact, it seems to become even fiercer, bringing the smells of the lake to meet me. I can hear the clip clop of horse hooves on the street down below and the laughs and cries of children playing in the lake.
I try to savor the last light of day, as the sun becomes invisible behind the horizon and the moon
Mrs. Ybarra
English III DC – 7th
10/17/13
Beyond the Orchard Step by step, crunch by crunch, my bare feet tread over the dried, brown pine needles under me. I look to my left and see green, as far as I can see. Green everywhere, carpeting the ground, coating the trees, and screening the trail from the persimmon colored sky overhead. I look to my right and see a decaying wooden fence separating the trail from a grove of trees with little green fruits hanging off of the branches, just waiting to ripen. As I continue on, past the apple orchard, I become enveloped in green nature. I’m overwhelmed with the smell of green leaves and nature all around me. After a few more minutes of walking, I finally arrive at my destination. One foot at a time, I climb the old stone steps up to the cliff. Immediately I feel the strong gusts of wind blowing across my face and whipping my hair back. I hear the sound of waves lapping against the shore, calling to me. I step up to the edge so that the only thing that keeps me from tumbling over into the strong wind is a 4-foot high stone ledge. I lean against the ledge, peering down below. As I looked out, I see the shoreline that has been tempting me with its music for the past few minutes. The water is so many different shades of blue; deep indigo, dark teal, and bright cerulean all in one. Everything just makes me feel like I’m small and nothing compared to the vast stretch before me. In contrast to the slow moving water below me, I see the sky facing me. In the sky, the sun sets like a flaming ball of scarlet fire near the horizon. Even as the dark night creeps closer and closer, the breeze doesn’t slow. In fact, it seems to become even fiercer, bringing the smells of the lake to meet me. I can hear the clip clop of horse hooves on the street down below and the laughs and cries of children playing in the lake.
I try to savor the last light of day, as the sun becomes invisible behind the horizon and the moon