Almost Elysium

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A piece of descriptive writing for my English paper.

Submitted: February 10, 2009

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Submitted: February 10, 2009

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Descriptive Writing - Almost Elysium

I sat on a grassy knoll atop a hill overlooking the impossibly beautiful scenery before my eyes. The sun peeked through fluffy clouds of snow, its rays gently caressing my skin, warming it. As I sat there, silent and appreciative, a thousand different sounds of nature washed over me. A chorus of sweet, high birdsong began, with various rich undertones of the larger birds. The swish of leaves played a countermelody to this. Sounds of nature filled the air. The warm summer breeze blew gently by, carrying with it a fresh, invigorating scent, with subtle hints of rose and mint. This picturesque spot seemed like a little piece of heaven on Earth as the surrounding countryside, pleasant as it was with its unruly tangles of leafy green bushes and scattering of tiny, delicate wildflowers, paled in comparison to this wondrous place to behold. On the gentle, rolling hills, fields upon fields of perfectly even and ordered grass stretched out before me, with the occasional lamb ambling along and grazing lazily, its silvery white wool shining in the sun’s light, creating a striking but perfect contrast. Wherever the few snowy clouds lifted, beams of sunlight peeked out, its rays refracting through the teardrops of dew hanging off every strand of green, translucent grass, twinkling like stars in the night sky while balancing flawlessly, poised ever so carefully and creating an shimmering effect visible to the few blessed to witness it. Along the lake were numerous hedges, clipped to perfection, yet to my eyes it seemed that nature was its own caretaker, for no mere human hands could hope to create this stunning work of art. The hedges were of a darker shade of lime, revealing crystal shot with veins of emerald, seeming like a fuller and more mature incarnation of beauty when in comparison to the lighter-coloured grass. The combination, it seemed, was of a myriad of merry little pixies flying and darting around, with lithe, graceful elven dancers clad in dark myrtle moving in complex, fluid motions amidst them.

But the lake…the lake was out of place here. It was a beauty in its own right, drinking in and then reflecting the surrounding splendour. Yet it was a dark mirror, smooth as glass, impenetrable and nothing could be seen within its murky depths. Its ominous surface seemed to take in the image of the vibrant beauty of the greenery and transform it into a darker, more faded reflection, the image taking on an ill aspect. There was an unsettling sense of mystery that hinted at a thousand dark and long buried secrets that were best to never be brought to light. It was beautiful, yes, beautiful…but terrible.


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