Student or Learner
Could you please mark this, just wanted to know if I was going in the right-direction
Last Summer. The enclosed beaches, silent letting out a silent cry wanting Human Nature to touch its beautiful landscape to be explored by those who haven't yet witnessed the magnificent beauty of the beaches skin. The remembrance of the Arabian's gentle touch, beaming towards my mahogany skin. The sun emerging from its shield, developing a new day and waiting to be uncovered. Lightly leaving behind a soft touch of a dark, subtle tone. Dazzling, towards my skin had been a yellow radiant beam, similar to what was a quick glance of heaven. The soft sand moving towards the sleek toes I once had, glittering between my toes giving a quick sensational, reminder of a swan I had met on a farm in Suffolk. As the gentle waves surface up the shore a group of flock dart towards the crowded fish determined to catch their preys. The silent screams of the lifeless seas as it had been sucked out by the nearby creatures.
Shop keepers had prepare themselves for a busy day ahead of them displaying the products on the bench ready to attract, the hungry costumers. Children sprinting towards the beach, with a plastic bucket and spade on each end of their hand. Their parents prepared for the children to glance towards the merchandise and spend every penny of their pocket money. The children dancing from one place to another, it was breath-taking, they glistened and revealed a welcoming beautiful smile. Every moment was picture perfect. Families experiencing moments of their lives had been a sign of greatness. Rows of beach huts stood proudly side by side like soldiers on a parade, each hut covered the utmost vibrant colours that would capture the eyes of the many tourists, leaving behind a memory of their own, they would never forget.
The sun Gradually started to disappear, back to regenerate the once yellow light it produced. Signifying the end of an remarkable day. The once happy laughter of the children's had left the beach, leaving behind an empty piece of land with the sound of the calm waves coming in and out searching for it's, significant prey. Birds had silenced, fled to their nests. The built sandcastles washed away by the destructive waves. The remaining foot-steps disappeared into the night, and buried into the hollow sand. The wind played a significant role to the end of the day tossing the scattered rubbish around like a wild tornado. It was a perfect ending to a perfect day.
It ended, like story book on its last stages of being read and remembered, passed on to another generation. My last summer had once again an memorable moment, in which it left a gentle reminder to my heart, never to be forgotten. It was a journey to the most remarkable, landscape. Travelling from a warm part of the continent to the other was a change my body would have to accept. Not me
It had been an hard-working, travelling journey to the peak of a mountain. Mount Pulag (2,922 m) the third highest mountain in the Philippines and the highest peak of Luzon. Being able to reach the top had been an accomplishment of mine, and being determined to do so was my ambition.A few hours later, of blood sweat and tears. I had finally reached the top of Mount Pulag. My eyes were astonished to see the grace and beauty, that had been well preserved for many years. It had remained untouched. The snow was still as smoothly set, not a trace of prints pressed against the sparkling snow. Being able to describe the landscape had been impossible and if so, remarkable words wouldn't be enough to create a piece.
A section of the mountain had been covered in a rug of tress, with the many colours of green, yellow and orange, but the tops were covered with glistening and frosted. The mountains were neatly laid out like a great spine of the land, curling at the end like a tail. Every drop. Mountains were soared up as if determined to kiss the heavens of the sky.
I could feel the cold breeze gently passing through my transparent, bare skin, brushing off the dust and sweat it took to get up the mountains. The snow looked fresh, the colour of pure white glistening at every sight. The cold air travelling its way down my layered top, inviting itself to places its never visited before. The heavy snow, had almost reached towards knee. My feet sinking deeply into the vulgar snow, hungry for more food. insisting never to let go, almost freezing my leg below average body temperature.
The trees covered with the fresh snow stacked upon on like butter on bread. The leaves already rusted off. Like graceful ballerinas, the snowflakes danced in the air landing delicately from the heavens like mini angles ready to be rolled up into a snowman. The coating of the trees with the unique snowflakes individually layered out making the village -from a distance- look like a massive pile of snow. The blue sky had been replaced with a unique mist of pure white. Beside the fluffy sky had been trees stacked so high, fighting to see a glance of heaven.
The sky glowed in the dull mist. Rabbit holes were filled with snow and families huddled together in a fire place. Winter Wonderland is what it reminded me of. Habitats were frozen white and animal hidden.
Home to the roaring fire, kept running in my head, yet the coldness and the journey to the top of this beautiful mountain made me eager to go outside; it stung me. The sunset had finally arrived the clouds gathered bringing once more an early night. The snow seemed to be part of the thickening darkness, layer by layer. It was an perfect ending to a perfect day.
What is this supposed to be?
To me, it is incomprehensible rambling text.