Descriptive Essay

The dock has a fine hardwood finish that prevents painful splinters, plenty of comfortable lawn chairs to sit in, an emerald green table where I have played countless hours of Settlers of Catan, and an American flag that flutters majestically in the wind. The view, needless to say, is breathtaking. In the chilly, gray mornings that accompany my lake house visits, I wake up early, amble to the dock, plop down on a comfortable lawn chair, and gaze out into the body of water that is Weiss Lake. The smooth waves undulate across the calm surface of the lake as if a herder is flocking his sheep slowly back into the red barn house. The ripples create a sense of inner calm that permeates throughout

The informed, written analysis and evaluation of a work of literature is known as literary criticism, which is based on a literary theory. An examples of such a literary theory is intertextual criticism, involving the comparison of two separate novels. Written by Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird is comparable to A Separate Peace by John Knowles. Both novels are fictitious and showcase universal symbols, themes, characters, and numerous other literary devices utilized by authors. Similarities between these two novels are exhibited by the author’s use of a tree as a symbol for life and death, the victim, archetype, and weather as a symbol for change.

More than many other types of essays, descriptive essays strive to create a deeply involved and vivid experience for the reader. Great descriptive essays achieve this affect not through facts and statistics but by using detailed observations and descriptions.

Since its arrival in mainstream literature in the late 18th century, the genre of gothic literature maintains its place as one of the most captivating and intriguing writing styles. Attributing to this popularity is the dark approach to romantic era works, resulting in novels full of death, mystery, and suspense ("The Gothic: Overview"). One of the earliest and most influential examples of gothic literature is Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. This novel remains one of the most popular and stolen-from classics in this genre because of Mary’s excellent plot and execution ("The Gothic: Overview"). In Frankenstein, Shelley creates the perfect piece of gothic literature by implementing the use of death, supernatural elements, and ominous settings to

Everyone should find a passion that makes getting out of bed every morning so easy. Passion is a strong desire for something. My passion for sports started when I was only six years old. My mom had signed me up to play basketball at the YMCA. I have played basketball every year since. Along with basketball I also do track and competitive cheerleading. Sports is my way to have fun, relieve stress, and to just do what I really love. I love every aspect that sports has to offer. The gym is like another classroom for me. I learn something new every time I walk through the gym doors. Being involved in sports I have learned many life lessons that no book could ever teach me.

We have been waiting nine long months, and we have had much preparation to do before the arrival of our daughter. Of all the things we have prepared for her, I am most proud of her room, my mother and I painted it and sat it up with all the accessories together. I sat on the floor and taped off the stripes to be painted, and my mom painted. It was a great team effort, and we are so happy how it turned out. With flowers and butterflies on her wall, busy pattern of stripes and beautiful colors, she is going to love her bedroom. Our crib and furniture is finally set up and put in her room. With pink and green letters above her crib spelling out the name of our precious baby

This painting portrays Kahlo's two different personalities: traditional and modern Kahlo. The two are holding hands and are both sitting next to one another. The traditional

She is small and sharp and angular. Her elbows hurt when they're pressed tightly against you and her small fingers dig into your sides. She rests her chin on your shoulder and it sinks into you. Her fingers are flat- but you always remember them flatter than they are. In your mind, they are a 2D part of her. Her hair looks as if someone set it aflame. It reminds you of October, of the orange, crisp leaves. While you are in no way overweight, you are definitely softer than her. Her hands are delicate, you’re always afraid you’ll crush them, so you hold her hand loosely. You can’t decide what color her eyes are. At first, they seem blue, but the next time you see her you could swear they’re green, and occasionally they look a stormy grey.

Her hair curls off her bright face in tight ringlets like little bundles of joy, accentuating her young enthusiastic face. Her clothes hang off her tiny frame like a potato sack on a twig. Her smile stretches from cheek to cheek, wrinkling her pale forehead and forming small fragile dimples on her rosy cheeks. Her skin is as pale as chalk, accept for her cheeks which go a deep shade of fuschia when she’s excited. She’s like a china doll, all fragile and small with her tiny dresses on. She has thin pink lips with a scar on the lower right corner of her bottom lip. She has little stubby arms and legs which make it hard for her to function normally, as her torso is too big for the rest of her body so she falls over a lot. It's hilariously sad, but she’s a trooper so she gets right back up, brushes herself off and gets on with life. I feel that we could all learn a lot from her.

The weather was beautiful that day. The water was a million shades of blue. The The waters were calm, with the occasional swell rolling to shore. I stood at the helm of this luxurious 40 foot boat. It was an all white boat that had a special design for SCUBA Diving and Open Water fishing, called a Mako. I steered the boat into a pretty unprotected bay that had a nice black sand beach to the north and sheer cliffs to the south. The green vegetation clearly contrasted with the black lava fields around it.The water was deep in the bay. Yet the coral reef was visible even in the deepest spots.

Heavy traffic, blaring sirens, and stress linger in the atmosphere of my hometown Houston. Before coming to Albion, Houston was all I knew about the city. The word city, can be defined as an abundance of things yet, as “Love Where You Live” stated in, “great cities you sense a spirit of generosity visible in small gestures and the large, and it is these that can make ordinary places extraordinary even if they are down heel”(16), yet my hometown seemed to fit the description in a peculiar manner. I lived in Houston for the majority of my life, but I cannot say that I sense a link between it and myself. Setting foot into Albion is the complete opposite. Albion drew me in with its peaceful vibes and welcoming faces. Every time I step outside I am in awe of the greenery surrounding me; whenever I take a walk and run into a stream I am baffled at the fact that the water is so clear that I can see the bottom, that I can hear the chirrup of crickets in the grass.

I never knew the moment I would step into that elevator, that my once boring morning would flip upside down. I stepped out of my hotel room, purse in hand and ready to take on the day. I walked down the hall into a small section where two elevators were located. I patiently waited for one of the elevator doors to open, and I noticed a woman standing next to me. Her attire consisted of a fancy blouse, and a skin tight skirt. I turned my head away before I could get caught staring, and at that moment the elevator door opened. We both stepped in and I pressed the first floor button then looked over at the lady to see if she needed to go somewhere different. She gave me a slight nod, indicating she was going to the same place I was. As the elevator door started closing, a girl quickly blocks the door from closing with her hand.

It felt nice, the fresh breeze of air as I jogged down a desolate park during the night time. It wasn’t a good day, so it felt nice to have the moon in full view over me as I vented my frustrations in each step I took. Suddenly, I heard crying. I took an earbud out, no longer hearing Taylor Swift, and the crying was louder than ever. Bewildered, I looked around for a moment as I suddenly noticed a few feet away on a bench, a girl was crying. I squinted for a bit, trying to see her clearly in the darkness. Immediately, I noticed she was young. I saw she was rather skinny, somewhat tall thought that could be deceiving as she was sitting down, and was wearing a crop top that showed off her belly and displayed a low V-neck with shorts that clearly showed off her features. She had on stockings, and I could see her shoes were next to her, 3 inch heels that looked clearly painful as she was massaging her feet for the moment on the bench, tears streaming down her face as she was looking down. I approached for a moment, “Hey.”. She jumped, startled by the apparent hello, and looked up to find me approaching her, as I quickly held up my hands, to show I meant no harm. There was an awkward silence for a moment, as we stared at each other for a moment, as I’d calmly take one step after another towards the bench, my mind racing and my heart aching as I felt I needed to confirm my worst thoughts. I was finally able to sit next to her, I didn’t look at her yet though, as she was still

It was a chilly night, but the sky was clear and the stars were shining brighter than ever. The soft breeze made the trees rustle. I liked that sound. It made me feel like I wasn’t alone. It made me feel relaxed. I was looking out my bedroom window thinking that nothing could destroy this relaxing, happy, and beautiful night, but I didn’t know what was coming.

As I begin to stretch my legs to run I feel the tightness of my thigh begin to loosen. I hear the mumbles of all of my teammates as they surround near me. The wind plays with the leaves tuning towards the ears to those who listen. The birds sway from tree to tree seeking adventure. Before I know it, our coach calls us over to do some laps. While I brace myself for the first one I take a deep breath, enough to make