Winter Descriptive Writing

After 8 hours of traveling it came down to this. Being in a confined space for so long, and having to keep popping my ears because of different altitudes. It was in this moment, I realized, that this house in a small neighborhood in the middle of a forest in the middle of nowhere, I realized, this feels like my second home. I hopped out of the car after a two–hour drive from the airport. My muscles felt reviled from sitting in a squished environment multiple times. I've seen my grandparents house multiple times, but not in the winter since I was six. The patches of fluffysnow enriched the ground to make it feel like a winter wonderland. The trees swayed with the wind, and the birds were singing their hearts away. The crunching sound from the snow while we walked to the door, made the dog, Casey, jump in excitement. Just imagine, a huge black lab hurling towards you, and you bracing for impact. Well, Casey still thinks she is a puppy, she is not, so having a dog pile on top of me, was just fantastic. Getting up from the floor, I walked to the window carefully. Looking at the winter wonderland, I couldn't wait to get outside. The crunching sound reappeared when my feet lift off the wood porch to the snow. The sunshine wisped out of the trees and hitting the snow, making the snow shine. I leaned down and touching the snow with my bare hand, forming a clumpy snowball just to throw in the distance to see how far it goes. The snowball stayed together until it hit the ground. The

A Winter Snow When I think back upon the memories of my childhood, I clearly recall a specific winter afternoon at my grandmother's house. It is an especially cold day, I remember. I am dressed in two pairs of thick socks, two sweatshirts, a heavy winter coat, and my bright pink rain boots. I am nine years old, and to me, winter snow is pure magic. As I step out onto my grandmother's back porch, I remember losing my breath, not only from the bitter cold, but also from the captivating scene. I am immediately taken aback by the view. The entire ground, as far as my eyes can see, is coated in a hefty blanket of solid white. The light seems to dance atop the snow, making it glitter wherever the sun shines. All the trees around are...show more content...

Extending my arms and legs as far as they can reach, I begin making a snow angel. I can feel the cold wet of the earth making its way through the gloves on my hands. I rise off the ground to look at my creation, and just next to my angel wings, I find tiny animal paw prints. Curious, I am instantly set to investigate. I follow the paw prints around the perimeter of the yard and stumble on the perpetrator. I find my grandmother's dog, Chip, a few yards away, leaping into the air in a desperate attempt to catch snowflakes in his mouth. The paw prints undeniably belong to him. In fascination with the rare weather, I close my eyes in order to focus on the sound of the day. I listen intently. The sound is so overwhelmingly peaceful. Silence, yet there is much to hear. I hear to the sparse leaves gently rattling in the breeze. In the distance, I hear a bird singing its joyful melody. I hear the snapping together of Chip's jaws after yet another failed attempt to taste the falling snowflakes. Laughing, I hear the pattering of his feet against the snow as he ran cheerfully. Abruptly, the sound of the back door opening snaps me out of my trance. My grandmother appears in the doorway to announce that dinner is ready. She has prepared soup. It is in this moment that I feel my stomach rumble. I had been so caught up in exploring the snow that I did not even notice my hunger. With the door ajar, I can smell the hot soup on the stove. My

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