Autumn Descriptive Writing

In the novel, All the Broken Pieces, by Ann E. Burg, Matt makes a comparison between himself and his brother when he defines his brother as “summer” and himself as “fall”. This metaphor can be explained not only by their physical features, but their emotional and mental characteristics as well. His brother features summer and hasn’t faced any misery, while he himself looks like fall and has come across atrocious things.

Reflections of the foliage are visible in the lake on my left, and behind that chairlifts can be seen waiting for the first snow to fall to begin their busy work of the winter. Small houses begin to appear, as well as family-owned ski shops, quaint motels, and Munroe’s Family Restaurant as I travel further down the road. Lining the sides of the road are hundreds of evergreens and maple trees, leading me towards the mountains in the distance. The mountains are topped with white fluffy clouds, that in a few months will be showering the pinnacles with

Instead of your heavy winter coat, you decide on a raincoat and boots for the upcoming rain. With the wet dirt and uncovered tree’s, earthly smells enclose your senses. Seeing the newly grown grass. Hearing the birds chirp after returning back to their homes. Critters have just begun to come out of hibernation and everything starts to become the active beaten path you used to know. As the clouds start to disappear and the sun comes out of hiding, trees and plants start to bloom with new life with the vibrant colors of summer. Leaving behind the pastel colors of spring, summer brings noisy vibrant colors to life. The animals wake and scamper across the cement pathway while the flowers open to the morning rays. Different smells meet you halfway to fill your nose with aromas that have not been discovered since last

Fall colors, slowly waiting to be released from limb’s perch by cool evenings and frosty mornings.

The work autumn may also remember and so she might point and say proudly to the adult with her. ‘ Look those leaves are falling too! Is that because its autumn?’

As we read through, the reader can begin to see a change in the tones of the poems. In A November Landscape, the tone is very dark and sad until it hits the third stanza. The speaker talks very sad then, the author adds the word “yet” to show the reader it is not all what it seems. He then finishes the last stanza by saying “April lured the crocus through snow” which shows signs of spring. The tone in Winter brightens up and talks about how “spring must take its place” but then is quickly switch around and the speaker says “I tell you no” and ends the poem with absolutely no hope and says “who watch each other with the winter’s look, touch with his hand, speak with his bitter breath”.

Dave Phillips - He says that we we created like a circle for ourselves during the winter and try to hide from the snow instead of embracing it like most countries and we do that by hiding indoors and hibernating. Hes canadasa weather man and he said that 2009 was Canada's warmest winter and he was surprised by all the canadians that were full of joy because they all did not want a cold snowy winter. There were interviews on people on what they think of this year's winter and they were all happy, most of them were not even wearing winter jacket. Dave Phillips suspecting everyone to be disappointed but

The lake darkens as the ominous clouds race across the sky, as black as the devil’s soul, and swallows the bliss-blue complexion of the sky faster than you can blink. The world has abruptly become cellar-dark and the heavens above look to collapse down upon me. A deafening wind runs over the landscape like a thousand horses, the noise of the raindrops their clattering hoofs. The threatening force of the gales knocks and blows the trees in precarious ways, almost as though, if it had wanted to, the wind could blow them away as if they were but feathers, not heavy pines. Lighting lights up the sky like liquid, golden ore streaks being forged into forks up above. Wriggling and writhing with the pain of their own existence. Flashing once, twice, three times, polished and glossy like the cold prongs of the apocalypse. Shaking myself from my weather-caused trance, I hurry for shelter under a nearby fern tree. Staring deep into the blackness of the storm I wonder whether I will ever see that bliss-blue appearance

“Trees towered upwards with bending boughs holding the weight of the freshly fallen snow. A blanket of snow hid away all traces of animal life although you could hear the krawing of a murder of crows. Their hidden presence was foreboding to all men who passed through the forest. It was a signal of another starved beast returning to the earth. Even the most frivolous found the endless winter to be a burden.

The leaves fell so elegantly. No matter how hard I tried to throw the leaves, it would fall so delicately on my target. In my hands, the leaves felt rough, but when it fell on me, I barely felt its rugged surface. I went back to rushing around, throwing the leaves without consideration of how it moved until the bell rang.

Fall is a time of change. The leaves change from green to brilliant shades of brown, red and yellow. The seasons begin to change from the dog days of summer to the cool stillness of winter. Fall is my favorite time of the year. When asked to choose just one chapter from A Sand County Almanac, my first idea was to look in the section about the fall.

As he leaves, they notice that the leaves have all turned orange and the air is no longer warm. Every autumn thereafter, the trees at the Bailey farm stay green for a week longer than the trees to the north, and then change overnight. In the frost on the farmhouse windows the Baileys read the words, “See you next fall.”

Misty dew covers the entire surface of the field. The yellowing corn stalks stand erect and proud until my grandpas tractor comes to end their growth. Autumn slowly weaves its way in and leaves a stain of brilliant color in its wake. Not everyone enjoys such colors, but when you take a second to step outside your doorstep, and look at all the wonders that surround you, you’d be surprised at how marvelous the world can truly be. To me, Autumn is a time for relishing in the colors. Soaking in the oranges and reds while sitting by a warm fire. It’s a time for remembering that everything does end, but it does not have to end in the dreadful way we think it will. Autumn is a time for the closeness of others to keep out the chill of the morning and the starry-eyed darkness of the night.

At one time or another, every person has experienced the beauty of summer. In this time of the year, nature is full of life, the weather is at its finest, and the paramount joys of life can be experienced to their fullest. Then the fall comes, the trees turn lovely shades of red and yellow, and the wind offers a nice chill breeze for relief. Unfortunately, seasons change and the beauty that people once experienced vanishes. People focusing only on the material and petty aspects of life, rather than the beauty around them, will let life pass them, missing out on the true wonders of the world. In his poem “To Autumn,” John Keats utilizes imagery to express the importance of indulging in the beauties of nature, while alive, because humans are mortal beings bound by the limits of time.

The sunless sky covered the woods over the treetops which created a canopy over my head. The crimson and auburn foliage was a magnificent sight, as this was the season known as Fall. There was a gentle breeze, creating the single sound of rustling leaves. The leaves appeared as though they were dying to fall out of the tree and join their companions on the forest floor. Together with pine needles and other flora the leaves formed a thick springy carpet for me to walk upon.