The Park - Original Writing

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The Park - Original Writing

25 June 6:00am. As the sun slowly begins to rise, a peaceful chirping

noise comes from the birds hidden amongst the trees. The park is about

to wake from its long, tranquil and peaceful sleep.

The woodland is beginning to arise-a humming grasshopper and the odd

droning bee. The sunlight shines, making tall beams of light through

the gaps in the branches of the trees. The tall night-scary trees

become friendlier in the early morning brightness. As the woodland

prepares for another swelteringly warm, sunny day the air becomes

moist and heavy, making it hard to breathe.

When the morning sunlight hits the tall metal structures of the play

park, they breathe a sigh of relief. They are about to be played on

again. The large space will soon be full of screaming, happy children

spending a fulfilled day on the many swings, slides and roundabouts

the park has to offer.

The two tennis courts do not get used much. They are protected by a

huge green wire fence, which keeps people not wanted on the inside, on

the outside just as walls keep intruders from a castle. The heavily

padlocked door remains locked as the key is kept in the firm grip of

the angry park keepers' hand.

Gentle rippling waves caress the surface of the pond. The reeds of the

pond sway gently back and forwards like adoring football fans with

their scarves held aloft at a football match while the moor hens begin

their everlasting quest for food jerking their heads like small black

snakes. The park is prepared for the grueling day ahead.

It was 6am and Barry the park keeper's alarm began ringing loudly.

Barry yawned and tried to wipe...

... middle of paper ...

...st it is a

temperate one.

The play park is again extremely empty and free from noise. Even the

swing has stopped its lonely, squeaking motion; the roundabout and

slides are still but there cold metal somehow retains a sense of heat

from the days burning sun. No child would recognise the play park as

the dusk intensifies and gathers the shadows to itself.

The smell of the grass was stronger and sweeter now. The whole park

was infused with the scent as sweet as meadow hay. The midsummer moon

rose from the dark rim of the wood almost as bright as the sun.

In the still water of the pond there was another moon and the reeds

rustled against each other in the cool, twilight air. The night was

only short and soon there was a paler glow in the eastern sky. The sun

was to return, to enlighten the park with another day.

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