Descriptive Essay
George Washington Carter once said, "Nothing is more beautiful than the loveliness of the woods." I couldn't agree with him more. Whenever I think of Rock Cut State Park, I picture magnificence and placidity. Rock Cut State Park is more than a fun place to camp. The park is a pool of vivid, colorful, and distinctive memories. In a word, Rock Cut is majestic. The vast, ice blue lake that borders the fertile, resistant land, is a joyous reflection of my past, telling many of the sidesplitting stories that I have experienced on its sandy shores. The lake, which is home to many different forms of life, is crowded with ripples and is as choppy and rough as sandpaper. In the lake there are miniscule orange and white cylinder buoys whose sole purpose is to mark the spot where a boat is to dock. The weathered, chocolate brown tree with its flimsy orange and red leaves, tower like a great skyscraper over the lake. The multicolored trees conceal the hard ground from most of the sunlight and create luminous shadows beneath them. The long branches look over the lake with a frown as if they were disappointed with its condition. The jagged, harsh branches reach in all directions as though they are confused at which way will lead the
of boats paddling through the water. The frigid wind has a different sound every time I visit, but to an extent, it is always the same low howl like the baying of a dog. Each animal I hear has a different, unmistakable call. Whether it is the howling of a coyote or the croak of a frog, I can always tell who is beckoning for attention. The various species of birds make the majority of the noise since there are more of them than any other animal. I can hear the animals scurry from one bush to the next as if they were running from someone, but here, there is no one to run from. At night I am often wakened by the incredibly annoying crickets chirping nonstop like long lost relative. The bugs constantly buzz past my ear as if to remind me that they are ready and waiting for night to come so they can insufferably bite me. Taking a hike through the woods with my cousins, I hear constant laughing from one group or another and twigs snapping like whips under our feet. The sound of crunching leaves becomes rhythmic, and when it changes everyone takes notice. The difference between the peaceful woods and the chaotic campsite is astounding. Every second there is a new sound to be heard. Zippers unzip warm tents, dogs bark for food, and the fire cracks. To some it might seem crazy but to me anything else would be eerie. The forest has a feeling all its own. I learned the hard way that you shouldn't touch everything because sometimes it can hurt. The trunks of the trees, which are scratchy and rigid, remind me of a rocky beach. I quickly learn to identify poison ivy after my cousin unfortunately touches some and his legs swell like a balloon. Several of the bushes surrounding our campsite are thorny and painful, but others feel like I am rubbing lotion on my hands. The ground has a distinct feeling in different places. Near the shore, th
Some common words found in the essay are:
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Approximate Word count = 1250
Approximate Pages = 5 (250 words per page double spaced)
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