The Badlands

When I was in the Badlands, to the left of me there were curvy twisted trees, knotting around each other sprouting green leaves out to the sides. Then there was a road with dark gray cement and rich yellow lines along the middle. And to the right of it was light green grass waving in the wind reaching out from the lumpy light brown soil. When I looked off to the distance there were mounds and small hills whirling along the countryside gracefully. But the most beautiful of all were the rocks. They were zig-zagging, jagged rocks that towered above me like great gray castles, gradually growing larger as I looked further out into the distance. I could smell the clean, fresh air and the deep, sweet smells of the grass all around me. I smelled the strong scent that the bark of the trees would give off, and I felt like the smells were wrapped around me, like they were a painting slowly swirling closer and closer to me. There was an eerie silence all around me, all I could hear was the soft breeze, blowing gently on my face, and the calm twittering of the birds. I felt the breeze blowing alongside me, I felt the soft, green grass tickling my ankles gently and gracefully. I felt my dad’s strong hand touching my shoulder from behind, comforting me, and, though I could not see, I was almost certain the he was just as amazed as I was.

Samuel Wolf
Age 13, Grade 7
Packer Collegiate Institute
Silver Key

Leave a Reply