Descriptive writing - Assignment Example

Descriptive Writing: The Fading Summer. Summer has faded now and the transition to winter is just beginning. The rocking chair soothes me with its ancient to and fro, and the view reminds me of happy times in my youth. This old porch, the grass and the trees, all witnesses to a time gone by. The oak trees have yellow tinged leaves and I can see red berries on the holly bushes. This morning’s mist has disappeared and now the light is so bright that it hurts my eyes. I always find it strange how sunlight can be so strong, and yet so cool.

Perhaps it is the moisture from the dissipating dew that makes everything tingle and shine. I won’t pack up the porch furniture today, because I want to hold on to this late remnant of the warm days just a little longer.The squirrel is sitting there by the pond, grooming herself. She turns and bounces towards for her store of hazelnuts. Every year I try to beat her to it, but every year she strips the tree before I even realize it is time to gather the harvest. She moves like a sine-wave, swift and light on her feet, chattering as she goes.

Every hour of daylight means another layer of provisions in the dark earth. Soon she will sleep. I wonder if the squirrel dreams of summer in her hibernation haven? A solitary bee settles on the hedge before me. Just one. When I was a child there were lots of bees, and the hedge reverberated with their buzzing. Now there is only one and he drops lazily onto a tired-looking rose blossom. He lumbers on, somewhat clumsy, and carrying too much weight, in search of the last remaining blooms. Making the most of the time, he is, like me, grateful for the sun’s cheerful company.

It is very still in the garden now. Where have all the bees gone? The rhythmic crash of the farmer’s mowing machine in the distance reminds me that the bees, too, have to adjust to modern lifestyle changes. Solitary bees, like self-employed couriers in the city, must learn to occupy their time alone, zooming from place to place, picking up and dropping off, guided by the logic of supply and demand. A cloud creeps over a quarter of the sky. The landscape before me now is cast in two shades: full color and muted shadows.

Perhaps I should fetch my jacket. A pink petal drops from the fading rose. Fingers of cloud reach out for the sun, and now half of the sky is gray. The back door creaks behind me, as a light wind rises in the West. Now the sun has gone and the temperature has dropped. My old summer chairs need a coat of paint, and the table has a shaky leg. I make a mental note to have a look at that at next spring. Meanwhile I think they need to go into hibernation for the winter.