z

Young Writers Society



The Park

by bubblewrapped


The tree that they planted here last year is tall now. As the seasons turn, its leaves are slowly yellowing, dropping one by one to the slick pavement until the path is thick with peat and the tree stands denuded, stark against a metallic sky.

The park is not itself in autumn. Everything drips. Colour fades into the earth until only the grass seems bright, while the bark on the trees is sodden with rain and the benches beaded with it, too wet to sit on. People hurry past beneath their black umbrellas and barely spare a glance at the world beyond the cast-iron gates. They do not wish to see the ghosts of summer dying amidst the blurring rain, or watch the once-green leaves rot on the sidewalk. Soon – only a few short months away – new life will bud on the trees’ stricken limbs and the plants will bloom again. Until then, however, those who are forced to pass through on their way from place to place keep their collars up and their eyes to themselves, letting dreams of hot days and butterflies conceal the bleakness of the oncoming winter.

Even the wind is silent. It breathes gently against the branches of the tree, clicking small twigs together like castanets, but otherwise it does not speak. Without its rustling voice, the only sound in the park is the slow splash of the waterfall against the concrete base of the fountain.

Unlike people, the birds do not mind the rain, perhaps because the damp brings out the worms and the snails, ripe and plump for picking. They flutter their wet feathers in the trees and preen, ogling the paths with bright, hungry eyes. Below, pale pink worms drown in puddles or are snapped up by greedy beaks; autumn is not kind to invertebrates.

The earth talks to itself. Even after the rain fades to a grey drizzle, a faint gurgle is audible as the bloated ground soaks up the moisture, and the smell of damp soil mingles with rotting foliage to make a subtle but pleasant perfume.

The tree bends slightly, pushed by the breeze, and a wave of movement stirs across the park that dies almost as soon as it begins. On the road outside, the faint swish of car tires on wet asphalt subsides, and somewhere, a bird begins to sing. Its tune rings cold and clear in the fresh, clean air after the rain.

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659 Reviews

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Mon Apr 18, 2022 4:12 am
RandomTalks wrote a review...



Hello!

RandomTalks here with a short review!

This was such a beautiful piece. I honestly don't have any suggestion for improvements because this is so great just the way it is and tinkering with it would only make it lose the essence that makes this piece so wonderful.

You have a really lovely writing style. You have a way with your words and you paint such vivid images in our minds that it is very easy to forget that we are not in the middle of the park, experiencing a rainy day in autumn. The descriptions were very detailed and they were built with intricate carefulness. I could feel the amount of thought and heart that went into them and it honestly made me smile.

What you have done in this story is describe a scene, this short moment in time that goes unnoticed by everyone else. However you capture this transition between the time and the weather so artfully, emphasizing details that we would have missed otherwise. You have created such a beautiful environment with your words that it was almost like entering a whole different world. The journey was incredible and the experience was fantastic.

Some lines, such as, 'The earth talks to itself' or 'Even the wind is silent', flowed so well that it felt like poetry to me. In fact, there is something very poetic about this entire piece, the way you have described the park has a really peaceful and calm vibe to it. I liked the fact that this story did not really need a plot to stand up and shine - its beautiful descriptions pull in the readers themselves, engaging their imagination and completely enthralling them with its imageries.

There's one point that I did not understand. Why are some of the sections italicized? I tried to understand if there was some deeper significance behind them being in italics, but I could not find any. So naturally, I was curious.

Overall, this was truly a work of art.

Keep writing and have a great day!




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170 Reviews

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Sun Apr 28, 2013 5:16 am
yubbies21 wrote a review...



Oh wow...You are amazing! And by the way, It is the Yubster again, here to deliver a cheerful and hopefully useful review!
I only have one or two painless nit picks, so let me get them out of the way quickly.
THIS PIECE CAN ONLY BE IMPROVED BY.....SIMILES AND METAPHORS! see? that didn't hurt too much. You can edit in several great additions in the form of similes and metaphors to make this piece just so much better and to create a more, well rounded image! Examples could be like this....
"The tree that they planted here last year is tall now."
Plus even more awesomeness equals...
" The tree that they planted here last year is taller than the multi-colored cars parked nearby”.
“Even the wind is silent.”
Becomes…
“Even the wind was more silent than the charcoal black cat slipping underneath a nearby bench.”

So you see, it spices up the piece writing and gives it more zest and peppyness (is that even a word?). The more you can consciously add these things into you writing, the better a writer you will become.

This next part is my favorite! When I blab on and on about why I absolutely adore this!

You used such vivid imagery that I could see this park in my mind and feel the dripping coldness and smell the damp, rotting leaves. It almost makes the temperature in the room drop and makes you want to get up and grab a sweater!
You used a wide variety of sentence starters, from clauses, ING words, or just moving into the sentence. This is the part of writing that I have the most trouble with, starting my sentences with more variety. You seem to have got this down pat. Here are some of my favorite clauses, ING words, or just starting off ways that you began your sentences!
CLAUSE:
On the road outside, the faint swish of car tires on wet asphalt subsides, and somewhere, a bird begins to sing.
Unlike people, the birds do not mind the rain, perhaps because the damp brings out the worms and the snails, ripe and plump for picking.
Below, pale pink worms drown in puddles or are snapped up by greedy beaks; autumn is not kind to invertebrates.
ING Word:
Without its rustling voice, the only sound in the park is the slow splash of the waterfall against the concrete base of the fountain.
JUST STARTING OFF:
The park is not itself in autumn.
Everything drips.
Colour fades into the earth until only the grass seems bright, while the bark on the trees is sodden with rain and the benches beaded with it, too wet to sit on.
They flutter their wet feathers in the trees and preen, ogling the paths with bright, hungry eyes.

This is an excellent yet simple description of a soggy park in autumn. If you make any improvements on it, I’d love for you to PM me or send me a link to the new copy! Keep your chin up while writing and go where your imagination sends you! Keep Writing and Good luck!
Happy Review Day!
yubbies21





how can i live laugh love in these conditions
— Orion42