Scenery in a Second

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Dipper

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Original poster
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Posting Speed
  1. One post per day
  2. 1-3 posts per week
  3. One post per week
Online Availability
Shake a tin of dice and tell me what numbers they give you.
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
  3. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
Genres
Sci-Fi, Fantasy, an assortment of others. Ask and you shall receive (an answer).
So here's the deal: I'm going to post few images of scenery, and you're going to describe what you see. Describe the smells, the sounds, the sights. Grab the meaty bits and make art with your keyboard.

Get writing!

1.

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2.

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3.

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#1

Henry sat on the bench alone. It was a calm, peaceful kind of morning, and he was glad of it. The lake stretched before him like a glass mirror without even a ripple to mar its surface. How Mary loved the lake when it was like this! He could smell the fires from the chimneys of the houses around the lake and it was a welcome old friend rising up to greet him. His eyes lifted a bit to the trees, in their fall regal splendor turning to flame as they flashed the world their final glory before surrendering to the starkness of winter. Even higher to the mountains beyond the lake, where the earth dared to reach up and touch the sky without fear or apology. How often had they sat there and remarked about the beauty of this place, and the blessing of it? Too many to count, to be sure, and yet not enough...not nearly enough.

Henry rose and looked down at the bench and a tear was in his eye, "I'll miss these times Mary my sweet...until I'm with you on the other side."
 
  • Bucket of Rainbows
Reactions: Dipper
The Arizona sky was a watercolor bleeding from orange to red to blue as the sun set on the desert. The formations towered, great edifices carved by wind, time, and dust that seemed to hang over the rocky floor. Saguaros kept a thorny watch over the place as night encroached further upon the desert, the wind gently picking up grains of sand and rock to fling about, not a single thing to truly break its passage. The wind, a great sculptor, was merely picking up its tools to form another masterpiece somewhere else while the desert came alive. Foxes crept between the shrubs that managed to eke out some water from the pitiless ground, and the mice were likewise meek to avoid detection from their hard-working nemesis. Shadows were cast long after the sun went down as the moon took its place, the monument of cliffs casting a long, dark shade which cooled everything it touched.