Beyond the corncribs, at the bottom of the shallow draw, was a muddy little pond, with rusty willow bushes growing about it.
The square windows were mullioned and edged thickly in white. Spiders scurry in dark corners, their old webs flap in dusty silence, clinging to the wall with their ghostly fingers. He had a plan for getting to the civilization of the city. It's window trim was delicate and the lights in it's sash were a bubbly amethyst.
Wyatt was fast on the take, reacted immediately and stopped her in her tracks. Leave a comment General He wanted to impress the crowd by saying something great about the countryside, to tell them how noble they were to have put up with this hard land.
If you weren't into pony club or didn't have your own indoor pool to host parties at you might as well paint yourself brown an join the trees in the woodland for all the attention you commanded. They talked of rebuilding but who had the time? He isn't like this for a sheep or duck, it's his horse, his pride and joy that's in pain and I can see etched on his weathered features that it isn't only the horse that's suffering.
Twenty years of rain, sleet and baking summer sun had taken it's toll. By Joshua LinDecember 8, The dingy brick walls were creative writing description of a farm by the drippage from the leaky tin gutter that ran along the roof.
Leave a comment General The mud lay in uneven patches, scattered over the sloped concrete farmyard. Feelings are feelings, life is life. The walls have given way to the rain and started the insidious process of rot.
Unfortunately it meant studying at school, but a ticket to the university meant a farewell to the countryside.
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A barn usually has that ammonia smell and the air swirls with dust, but all that was long gone; washed out and diluted. May of the windows were boarded up.
Leave a comment. It was twice as large as the old barn and built with better materials bought from the city.
There was time for work and time for play, a perfect balance. It the house had been built to impress then it was mission achieved. Jacob enters the stable first, and this man who usually barks orders and rarely smiles starts to soothe the horse with a gentle touch and a baby's lullaby. Leave a comment General Draughty corridors, cold air seeps under doors like the tide on a fridgid desolate beach.
Its easy to smell the warm summer months in the flakes of green hay as you feed, reminding you that this is all worth it and the days of frozen water buckets will soon be over. Then you detect the undertones: the stuffy musk of animal fur and the stank of old, dried-out dung and droppings, and maybe the sharp smell of old, oily metal and machinery.
He explained her that she couldn't do such a thing, a good explorer was also a wary one and not only they had to check if the ladder was safe to climb but they also had to check every corner of the ground floor area for any possible hidden traps.
By suiteheartMarch 22, Found in Flight, authored by John Steinbeck. Icy and bitter wind rattles the condensation covered single paned windows, water lazily drips to the rotting sill with it's dirty cream cracked paint.
Out of every inch poured the memories of her childhood summers Leave a comment General The farm grew up out of the pale green hills as if it had always been part of the scenery. The driveway was obscured from the road by a tall rock wall, ancient, but simple enough to add security paraphernalia to.
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In my daydreams I sit by it in a wicker chair listening to the village, of the chattering wildlife around. Leave a comment General This house outlasted the others because it's made of concrete. Leave a comment General The barn had seen better days.
The roof that had been cedar shingle the same as the old farm house was worse than a gap-toothed sailor. Leave a comment General The farmhouse had been old when Elijah was a child, and now that he stood at the full height of a man it almost swayed in the wind.
Tiles were missing, rotten or sticking up at awkward angles. Leave a comment General In the barely there light of morning the strawberries are already scarlet.
By Angela Abraham, daisydescriptionariNovember 16, By Angela Abraham, daisydescriptionariSeptember 2, She pushed away a rusty pitchfork and decided to be more careful next time she fell asleep in the barn… —Similes and metaphors create strong imagery when used sparingly. By Nostalgia DarknessJanuary 8, The bus cruised down a twisting road, grassy, forest green hills looming over the mountainous drive.
It's an infection of some kind. Perhaps this little kingdom was once loved and the owners prepared it to creative writing description of a farm a storm before departing, only to find on their return that it had become creative writing guardian structurally unsound wreck.
Had they been carpeted like the ones in his friends suburban homes it might not have been so bad, but in this old cottage they were unforgiving grey stone; cold as a castle but without the precision or attention to detail.
They discovered feathers spread among the hay on the ground, a box of rusty nails, an old horse blanket with an earthy smell, tacks abandoned near the south-east corner.
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I guess what I'm saying is, it belonged there, and if it were absent the picture of that landscape would be missing something very special. By Angela Abraham, daisydescriptionariNovember 16, I imagine that it is my home, that the calling of the years somehow takes me there.