Road Trip(Descriptive)

　　There is another path on the mountain way while we were hiking; should I take it or not?

　　My family and I got up at 4 a.m. because we decided to hike on the spur of the moment. It was a morning in late autumn, the sun is still under horizon and the sky is still in dark blue with a few stars twinkled. The air was cold that froze my nose into red like Rudofph. Trees beside the mountain road we walked by, the wild grass and unknown flowers was sparkle with dew.

　　We walked for about half of an hour, the sun came out gradually and there I saw the path. I was in an age full of curiosity and passion for fantasies at that time. Therefore, the path really attracted me. I then told my parents and turned our way to it.

　　It was wreathed in cool mist that the tree seemed to be bigger than before. Fallen leaves covered the path, looked like a carpet of maroon, rustled when we tread on it. The scene recalled the poetry The Road not Taken by Robert Frost, so quiet, inaccessible and peace. It was about six, and the sun shone brightly in the azure sky though the brown leaves covered the most. Scraps of sunshine fell on floor, the dewdrops shone on little mushroom and spider webs glistened like pearls. I took a

 deep breath and morning fresh air filled my lung. Such a finest opening of a day in my life!

　　I chose the path I had never seen before, like Robert Frost did, no regret but only surprise. Because of the path and the experience, I could tell that magic forest does exist.

(This picture doesn't belong to me, it belongs to this website: http://www.panoramio.com/photo/42984688)

2015.12.01

Road Trip(Narrative)

　　Although there are countless roads in the world like stars in the sky, I will never forget the one nearby my grandmother’s house which is vivid in my childhood.

　　About ten years ago, the road is short and pretty lush. It is half of asphalt and half of mud. Most of the houses beside are gray and old, but covered with moss and ivy. Also, my neighbors have green finger; they planted sweet olive, azalea, kumquat, Periwinkle, and even vegetables like yam, scallion, loofah and cucumber. Many pot cultures beside like a long garden, made the road full of vitality.

　　My family and I used to take this road when we went to market. Sometimes we walked, and sometimes my mother would carry me by bike. We always sing nursery rhymes when passing through the happy road.

　　It was really happy then. However, everything changed in recent years.

　　We moved out when I was seven years old, and we seldom went back to grandma’s house because of my parent’s busy working. But what I know is that, there were less and less green on my little road every time I saw it. My neighbors didn’t have enough time to take care of them. Furthermore, as urbanization goes on, more and more buildings were built. Concrete and tar everywhere. There is no space for green to live, just gray was left.

　　Everything is gone now except the beautiful memory. I can recall the time after raining, in the evening, of the road. The setting sun is a drop of burning gold on luminous clouds which are red, pink, orange and purple. There were a breeze blowing, with a smell of rain and earth. There were the melodies of childish songs. There were my childhood. I can only keep it, but move on.

　　Though I have walked on many roads as countless as the stars, I prefer the sunset to those stars. The unnamed road will be always irreplaceable.

2015.11.10