One of our classmates is bravely posting his descriptive essay for feedback. Please add your feedback by commenting on this post:
The Snowfall [ROUGH DRAFT]
The silence of a November night was broken by the two rings of a faraway clock tower. I tossed in my flannel covers as the lingering bells permeated my dreams. My eyes opened. Tossing the soft sheets aside, I planted my feet one by one onto my solid bedroom floor. I could feel the cold of late autumn seeping through the smooth wood into the pads of my bare feet. The humming sound of the heater caused my eyes to drift shut again, but a magical sight through the frost-painted glass to the side of me seized my view. I gazed as large white flakes drifted past my window like fragments of heavenly clouds. I reached up to peer down onto the wintry street. The yellow light of the lamps revealed a thick shimmering blanket that painted the landscape white. My hands and the tip of my nose embraced the cold touch of the glass as I watched this enchanted winter scene. With only the sight of falling snow and the sound of winter’s whirling winds as companions, my eyes set on the hypnotic sight.
That moment was an almost magical part of my childhood, and the memory of that beautiful night will stay with me for life. The pure sight of snow brings me feelings of peace, security, and life free of responsibilities, which only a child could know.
After what seemed like hours, I tore myself from the window and slid back into the warm embrace of the comforters: excited to see what the first snowfall of that year would bring for tomorrow.
I woke that morning to radio announcements of bus cancellations and some far away school closures. Being only eight, my mother believed skipping one day of school wouldn’t hurt, so my siblings and I were allowed to have our first snow day. I’ll never forget the feeling of glee I had when we put our snowsuits on instead of our backpacks. The whole day was ours to explore our vast snow-covered yard. As we huddled in huge snowsuits onto our back porch like three little penguins, we admired just how much snow had fallen. Once the door shut behind us, we leaped into the thick layer of snow that I had seen blanket the yard the night before, patterning its perfect surface with our tiny boots. Soon the family dog joined in, and we tumbled around the backyard not having a care in the world. Only one thing was on our mind at that moment: play-time in the snow. Soon our cheeks were pink from a blend of exercise and winter’s biting wind. We stood in the middle of the yard (now blemished from our excessive running in circles), gulping down breaths of the stinging cold air. But the day was not over yet. Each of us claimed a heaping snow drift to be ours and created crystalline castles out of them. Letting our imagination run free, we created our own little world of fighting kingdoms and alliances. A world where we were all gods, free of responsibility. Lost in the day, we had only realized that night was falling when our mother called us for dinner.
Although—after dinner—my brother and sister had decided they had had enough activity for the day, I could not pull myself away from the wondrous magic the snow had created. I bundled myself and forged outside again. The wind was calming as it whispered across my face, kissing my bare cheeks. The sky had transformed from the bright blue of day to the overcast darkness of night. Snow was gently falling, and the traces of our day were almost covered. The warmth of my snowsuit wrapped around me, protecting me from the biting cold. I lay down in a soft snow drift as if it were a bed of feathers. As I lay there, a complete sense of peace came over me, a surprising amount for a child. Laying there in the snow I had no worries. No thoughts of the future; no thoughts of the past. The relaxing dance of the snow as it fell from the heavens cleared my mind. I sat in the snow with a sense of meditation almost. Time passed by the hours, and before I knew it, I was back in bed. The day of the first snowfall was over.
Each year I have looked forward to the first snowfall, to relive the magic of my childhood experiences. The first snowfall of the year after—a blizzard—caused the school to close for two days. The year after that, I had been at my grandparents, and experienced the event from a cozy window close to their fireplace. Each year an equally satisfying experience… except one year. One year something changed. The snowsuit didn’t fit. Of course it wouldn’t be too difficult to buy a new one, but at that age was there a point? I found myself going to school on the days of the first snowfall, catching up on much needed class time. There was no time to enjoy the gentle snow or the beautiful winter scenes. Night was spent studying and catching up on reading. No time for that angelic peace. Responsibilities went first. There was simply no time for the snow.
Would I consider those wondrous winter days of my childhood a waste of time? Never. Those carefree days of snow will stay in the back of my mind for life. I now look back on them as times well spent, times I will never relive. I look forward to days in my future when I can just enjoy the snow again like I used to, when I can truly appreciate my past, and my future. After all, don’t we all just want time to delight in our childhood experiences?
****NOTE****
This is a rough draft so no editing has been done yet. The ending needs more work as well (I kind of rushed through it). Please give me your feedback!