Descriptive Essay - Original Writing - 974 Words

I was used to moving round, having a mother who liked to travel more than making roots was something I had gotten used to. Still, I had never gotten used to the loneliness of an empty house when she was out exploring, or the feeling of leaving behind someone who could have meant something to me. Our most recent move was Oregon. It was pretty, and I didn’t mind it, but it was much different than Florida. Not only was it opposite sides of the country, it felt as if it were opposite worlds. In Florida, we owned a small, yellow beach house that was nestled right on the ocean. When it rained too much and the ocean flooded, the water would come up under our home. There was nothing I loved more than running down the steps of our screen porch†¦show more content†¦Trees were always in sight here, almost the same way that the ocean was always in sight there. Currently, I’m sitting at a pond just down the road from our cozy little shack we are calling home. The sun was se tting, which caused the still water to look bright red, pink, and slightly blue. The frogs were chirping, and the little yellow butts of fireflies were starting to emerge. The air was cold, and the trees were thick this time of year. I knew that in a blink of an eye, the pond would be frozen, and the mossy, green ground would be covered in snow and ice. I’d barely seen snow, but I was excited. Our first day in the state there was a small snowstorm. I’d ignored my room, which fashioned a soft gray, and a wall of windows. It was already dark in there, but the rest of the home was well lit from the sun. I ran out the back door, lie in the grass and let each of the little ice crystals land on me. I wished it would snow now; I could use a change of scenery. My phone vibrated again, the gold toned metal flashing awake and showing me I had another message. It was an email, rather, one that I had been waiting for. College was just around the corner, and I’d applied to m any colleges. The one I had wanted to get into most had just sent me a letter. I was too scared whether to open it, or to continue to anxiously fiddle with the brown-yellow grass, and watch as the clouds gathered around the tops of the pine trees. If I got into the school, that would