New Hampshire defines "beauty" when autumn rolls around. Different colored leaves adorn the trees that sit upon the rounded mountains, and the crinkle-crunch sound of stepping on leaves becomes a familiar noise.
In autumn, it seems that the air always smells of crisp apples, ready to be picked from some of the orchards here. A surplus supply of apples usually means there is going to be homemade apple crisp for dessert--yum.
Oh, how great it feels to live in such a beautiful place, with open country all around and plenty of trails in the forest to walk, the branches intertwined and the different shades of color looming overhead, and a layer of fallen leaves covering the ground.
Oh, my beloved New Hampshire.
Lindsay, thats funny, (not the writing) I mean that I was writing a poem about fall yesterday too! I totally agree with all the things you said here, and to make it even more amazing, I think you could make it longer.
ReplyDeleteLiesl
I love your sensory details in this piece. You do a great job of defining fall! I agree with Liesl, I think you should add a little bit more to it to make it complete. Maybe something about winter coming or the temperature getting colder or something like that. I really like this! Keep it up :)
ReplyDelete-Liz
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