The Meadow Essay, Research Paper
The Meadow
On a crisp autumn afternoon, I sat idly under an enormous oak tree watching as a whirlwind whisked across the rolling hills of the meadow. As it passed by me, the whirlwind scooped up a dormant pile of leaves lying next to the oak tree. The leaves appeared to come alive twisting, turning, and dancing about the meadow. They were sporting their new fall colors of red, orange, brown, and yellow. The brittle autumn leaves seemed to be having a party. As the party moved out of sight, I began to think about the last time I visited the meadow. The memories of my last visit are vivid with relaxed and peaceful thoughts motivated by the images, scents, and sounds of the meadow.
The beauty of the meadow in the summer is unequaled. My memories contained many images of this special place. Snow covered mountains extend high above the heavens; thus, setting the backdrop to the meadow. Wildflowers speckled the base of the mountain becoming more abundant near the babbling brook. The brook ran through the middle of the meadow turning, and twisting around the enormous oak tree. The lush green grass grew around the tree like hair on a dog?s back. Birds flew through the radiant blue sky diving for insects. My thoughts reflect relaxation as my mind focuses on the pleasing imagery.
The sounds of the meadow complement the beautiful imagery, and create a sense of inner peace and harmony. The soothing sounds drifted across the meadow like an orchestra playing at Carnegie Hall. The buzzing of the bees feeding on pollen made up the chorus. A woodpecker kept a steady beat as he drilled a hole in the oak tree. Birds whistling, and peeping formed the brass section like trumpets playing an
excerpt from the 1812 Overture. All these sounds, and many more blended together to create a relaxing melody soothing to the ear.
The scents that fill a place are often strong components of memories. The scent of the meadow established lasting images in my mind. A breeze that wafted across the meadow was full of many different scents. The yellow wildflowers smelled like a rich box of dark chocolate fudge: that was presented as a gift on Christmas Day. The green grass was an odoriferous carpet smelling mostly of mildew. Perhaps, the most pleasant scent associated with the meadow was that of an approaching storm. I often found solace in the rhythmic noise of the raindrops, and the wonderful smell of life giving rain. It was as if the smells of the meadow were tangible objects seen, felt, and touched.
A chill came over me as crisp breeze whisked over the meadow. The sun had passed behind the snow covered mountains. Small white flakes had started to come down as I sat under the leafless oak tree. I got up to look around the meadow; now completely covered with a white blanket. It seems that I missed remarkable visit while reminiscing about the past. The imagery, sounds, and scents of the meadow were powerful constituents of my relaxing and therapeutic memories.
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