My Backyard

In class we are reading The Poisonwood Bible. The book opens with a descriptive passage about a forest, and we were assigned to use a similar technique to describe a different place.

Imagine a world where the light is green, where the droopy branches of the tree drape over the ground in a canopy of hazy emerald, enveloping the air and space. It is perfectly still, and yet every surface shifts and writhes. There is only one tree, but its bottle-green leaves and wrinkly, lavender flowers seem to fill the entire triangle. The grass is wet, the sun reflecting off the tiny drops of dew resting on the blades. A muddy-brown lizard snakes its way through a pile of dead leaves, leaving behind a rustling sound. Jade green aloe plants sit next to the trunk, huddled against it as if for warmth. A forgotten lawnmower hides under the tree branches, next to the jagged brown fence. Not even the lizards remember why it's there. It's strangely out of place, and yet it looks comfortable there.A tattered white rope hangs down from one of the top branches, the only remains of a once-cherished tire swing. A chilly mist hangs in the air, as if it has just rained. This backyard is alive in every way, somewhat forgotten by humans and yet it flourishes without them.