Writing for HS, AM (Scalice, '07)
Dean Stavropolous
Posted by KStav at 2007/06/28 11:22:45 PDT
Descriptive essay

My father cautiously drives up the rocky, dirt road. He parks the dusty Honda in a circular pit, cleared of all grasses and trees. As I open the door, ans immediate breeze of fresh air with a light scent of sweetened pine combs rushes in through the car. I fit on my dusty, tan hiking shoes, and the shoes almost do not fit me; I had not been hiking in years. I stand up, and glimpse around while stretching my sore hands and legs; it has taken nearly three hours to arrive to this point, high in the mountains in the middle of nowhere. The trees sorrounding the thin road stands tall as if the trees are holding up the blue sky, and the thick, greenish-yellowish grass folds over because of its tall but skinny build. The shadows of the sunlight reveal the tiny specks of dust in the air swiveling crazily in no direect direction, and reflect off the seeral tree branches. Huge grayish boulders larger than our car lay around a tree to the left of me, while to my right, I notice a thin dirt trail, covered with dried up leaves and surrounded with tiny pebbles. The trail goes into the wild forest, twists to the left, and coils around a couple of large trees that are swaying in the gentle wind. The warm, summer day brings with it a couple of thin cloulds, and an unpredictable breeze, blowing harshly one hour, gently whispering the next. I have a cotton, blue sweater on just in case the wind hit hard, and I wear torn up jeans, along with my hiking shoes. I hear mountain lions howling to each other, birds chirping, and the gentle movement of the grass dancing back and forth .The howsl of the mountain lions scare me for a bit, but I eventaully forget about their presence. My father then calls my name and tells me we are ready to hike.

As my father leads me, he enters on the dirt trail that was originally to my right. I pick up an erect stick about three-forths of my size, and use it support me up through the unpredictable trail. The trail winds left and then curves right. As I walk, the liely forest becomes darker and darker; the trees around me are so thick that only thin beans light our way, at 3:00 o'clock in the afternoon! As my father and I walk, we both watch our step carefully; the one dirt trail has turned into a light grassy trail, and at times, it seems the trail has vanished, but comes back to appear a few feet in some direction. Most of the trail starts to move uphill, and I ecome less focused on my surrounding. Sweat start to fllow in my hair and drip son my clothes. My exhaused legs start to ache, and i quickly stop to catch my breath.

All of a sudden, my father turns around quickly and puts his tremlbing finger to his mouth. I suddenly freeze but move my immense eyes cautiously arund. And then I spot it. To the right in the corner of my eye appears a huge darkish-yellowish spot. I can not make out the figure, but as it soon ventures in front of us, I stay as still as can be, only hearing my hard breaths. It is a mountain lion. I can feel the sweat starting to flow faster thn ever. All of a sudden, one drop of sweat hits my shoe. The mountain lion slowly turns its head left. I look into its eyes for a split second. They are greenish-yellowish. The eyes look so determined to catch a prey and to have a big feast tonight. The mountain lion is about six feet in length, but it paws are extremely long and sharp. Its yellow coat is filled with a wave of bugs. its teeth were unbelievably sharp, and its saliva dripping to the ground makes me uncomfortable. The mountain lion, now only standing thirty feet in front of us keeps its face focused on me. I recite a payer in my head, knowing they can be my last thoughts I ever think. The mountain lion snickers, turns its head back into its normal position, and slowly trots away.

We stay until the mountain lion is out of sight. My flabbergasted father takes a deep breath and asks if we should go back. After quic thought, I tell him we should move on, that we did onot drive three hours to hike for less than an hour and a half of hiking. We move forawrd, up the trail.

My father, who has been on this trail may times before, tells me we are almost there. I am relieved, for this unforgettable hike chas come with many hardships, but I don't exactly understand where we are heading. As we hike up farther and farther, the sun seems to be falling in the thick trees, but suddently, more sunlight starts to appear. Finally, when we can go no higher, my father takes me off trail. We hike down through arough hill and through wide. I can hear the rushing of something, the sound of spalttering. I becoem excited, and as I walk though the last bush, I see it. Water harshly runs through rocks down the muontain. The river curves around a huge rock, and makes a sharp right turn about a half-mile down. I can feel the tinkles of water hit my body, which is big relief from the strenuous work done ot reach this point. There is a deep, green grass in all sides of the river, and the sun shines rightly down. Birds chrip in the trees above, and colorful fish gallop out of the water and die back in. I sit on a large patch of grass and just watch. Everythingi about the site is beautiful; a memory ot remember. From the feeling of water refreshing me, to the view, to the sound of liveliness, thhis is truly a once in a lifetiem experience.

The sun is falling each minute. it was 6:00 o'clock and it is time to head back. We fight through the tough wilderness and head back onto the trail. As we venture back, our struggle is less, because we move downhill. The sound of birds chirping has now vanished, and the only thing that helps us keep on trail are our foots steps, engraved into the somewhat moist dirt. It is difficult to see my surroundings, because the sun has fellen low, not behind the mountaiins yet, but behindi the towering trees. Driving home I fall asleep. I dream about the livelliness of the forest as I stepped out of the car, being surrounded by a forest in the middle of nowherem hearing birds chiripng, mountain lions howling, trees standing tall; I relived the memory. I then dreamed about that very moment where I saw the river following down the mountain, the colorful fish galloping otu and driving back in, the green grasses, and the harsh water running down the mountain. The experience was truly a once in a lifetime experience. Everyday, our lies are surrounded with human built objects, but only on our very best days do we visualize the elegance of the world, what God has given to the world, to humans.

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