Descriptive Essay

It was almost the end of first semester, few days before the summer vacation. Most of the classes, by then, had covered all contents planned for the semester, and teachers usually gave study hall to students instead of extraneous class. By then, with a very important exam just around the corner, I was obsessed with anxiety, studying most of the study hall sessions instead of taking a nap or chatting, like other students. But on that day, it was unbearably hot that I lingered to take my books out of the drawer. Allowing myself just a short minute of break, I lowered my head on the desk and closed fatigued eyes.

It was just after the P.E. class, and most of the students in the class, enervated, were sleeping. The class was soaked in tender smooth, but through the crack of that silence, I heard something soft. It was the combination of hundred melodies, each in slightly different tune, together bringing the sound of well-sharpened pencil smoothly brushing clean white sheet. Opening my eyes, I saw across the window a big tree, shaking itself fluently to the rhythm of the breeze. Enthralled by the magical harmony, I approached the window, opened the curtains and leaned over the window to take a close view of the tree.

The leaves on the tree were truly innumerable; about hundreds of leaves were dangling on each of the tree’s limber branch, densely veiling all the tops of the tree. And all those lime-green colored trees were refracting the golden sunshine of late afternoon, turning themselves into deep yellow. The wind running across the leaves was not only scribing a letter, but also passing through this party hall where blondes and their light-green partners were dancing. The convivial leaves never hesitated, even for a second; they incessantly shifted their date, grazing themselves to others, resulting kaleidoscope of sounds and colors.

My friend, who was sitting next to me, grumbled for drawing aside the curtains as the sunshine fell down on her face. I muttered words of apology, gazed at the tree for last and shut the curtains. But the scene remained deeply inside me – it was much more beautiful and surprising than any other tourist attractions I had ever been.

Yesterday, I took my steps back to middle school, and revisited the classroom I had stayed about a year ago. Sitting at the same spot, I opened the window, expecting to discover the precious scene in my memory. But what I was confronted was bare, thin tree, with hollow branches, being swallowed feebly in the harsh gust of wind. I was petrified, shocked, and stood by the window numbly about five minutes, maybe wailing over the lost beauty of the tree that now remains only as a fragment of my memory.

♥                                                                                                                                                                         ♥


Writer's Comments 

 1. Blog Changes: Since this blog will not be used for assignment purpose any more, I will start using here much more freely :P Stop labeling the titles, posting not only English essays but maybe Koreans, too, sometimes...? Only purpose is to keep this blog continually :)  One close teacher advised me to invest time every day at something, and I think it would be really cool if that "something" becomes writing... So: Try to write every day, maybe everyday is burdensome, then at least to think various subjects to write on or plan outline :D Maybe one writing per week would be great!

2. Writing Change: Recently read The Great Gatsby (F.Scott Fitzgerald), the most "beautiful" book I have ever read! I regret reading the abbreviated Korean version when I was young :( Fitzgerald's style, all the descriptions, imagery, metaphor, symbolism... All the writings I had done until now were close to expository, quite logical stuffs... I always tried to cancel extraneous adjectives and used simple sentences to deliver my message. But hey, here is new world, Fitzgerald told me about the beauty of descriptions! New style to challenge... And this is my first work, my first descriptive essay ever! XDDDD I will be very glad to receive advises to improve my descriptive essay writing style, so don't hesitate to post comments! 

Jan 15 2012

#8-4. Life Lesson: Pigeonworld Love

Sitting at the bus stop, I stared at two pigeons near my feet, fiercely struggling to hog a small piece of waffle. It was obvious that the larger one was claiming the high ground; every time the small one tried to peck the opposite, the large stroke its wings so that the small one forgoes the attack and takes a step backward, staggering. As the large one started to devour the waffle, the small turned away to find another food. Feeling compassion for the defeated, I threw bread crumbs to its side. And the very next moment, even before the small one put the crumbs to its beak, the large pigeon, which just finished up his waffle, flew this side and attacked the small again. The small, already beaten once, meekly gave up the crumbs and moved aside again. I tried several times more, but the result was the same.

Gazing the pigeons' world where the law of the jungle prevails, a question aroused in my mind; whether the pigeons know about love and companionship? Pigeons are usually observed in a group, two or three, wandering the street together. But this group seems to be formed by chance—not a sign of intimacy at all—considering the vigorous violence these members have for the food.

Considering the pigeons are vagabonds on the street, and the only way to survive on the street is to be swifter and stronger than others, it seems quite natural that pigeons do not form any relationship. Partner is just a hindrance in the wanderer’s living. When Mr. Pigeon was alone, he could eat a whole bag of cracker, but with Mrs. Pigeon along his side, he has to restrain his glut. When Mr. Pigeon was alone, he could just fly away when confronted a wild cat, but with Mrs. Pigeon along his side, he must stay near the nest and protect her. Mr. Pigeon’s everyday life goes much more complicated and onerous, with Mrs. Pigeon.

One day, Mrs. Pigeon died. Mr. Pigeon is now free from his duty to look after her. Mr. Pigeon, now, no more overlaps Mrs. Pigeon with a weaker creature he fights with for food. Instead of sympathizing to weak dueler, and yielding food to him, Mr. Pigeon can just trample on him and win the meal. Mr. Pigeon is no more warm-hearted sympathizer, but just a bloodless fellow, attacking the feeble opponent recklessly.

Not only this. When Mrs. Pigeon was alive, Mr. Pigeon did not attempt to do something risky or adventurous—for example, approaching the trash can where a wild cat residue—thinking of Mrs. Pigeon who will be waiting for him at their nest. Now, Mrs. Pigeon gone, Mr. Pigeon miss someone who would cry for his absence, thus will hesitate less to carry on dangerous acts. Without Mrs. Pigeon, the weak partner, Mr. Pigeon’s limits are gone – not only his ability to empathize with weak creatures, but also ability to value himself, is gone.

I don’t want to see large pigeon beating the small one and dominating the food any more. What I want to see is the large pigeon, overlapping the opponent to his weak partner and sympathizing him, thereby offering some food to the small one. This is why I hope all the pigeons to form a pair, take a partner, so that they can turned into warm-blooded creatures, learning how to care about weaker others, and also how to respect their own life.