Writing with Stardust: The Ultimate Descriptive Guide for students, parents, teachers and writers (9 page)

1. The moss-veiled trail snaked through the
care worn
forest.

2. The reaching trees were
time chiselled
and dying.

3. Clumps of moss swirled eerily from
toil worn
trees.

4. Drumming woodpeckers attacked the
wizened
bark of the trees.

5. The million-fold drip of rain sounded from the
world weary
,
Jurassic ferns.

                                                  
SENSATION

1. The forest’s beauty was heart-warming.

2. The wonder of the forest was soul nourishing.

3. The splendour of the forest was soul swelling.

                                                              SMELL

1. An earthy scent drifted towards our nostrils.

2. A seasoned smell wafted up from the forest’s floor.

3. A loamy smell, rising up like a vent, drifted towards our nostrils.

                                                              
TASTE

1. The wild berries tasted fruity.

2. The wild strawberries tasted sherry sweet.

3. The wild raspberries tasted trifle sweet to the palate.

                                       
LEVEL 1: BASIC SENTENCES

1. The forest was
   nut-brown
   .
   COLOUR
   
2. The twigs were
   crunching
   under my feet.
   SOUND
   
3. The trees were
   the towers of the forest.
   METAPHOR
   
4. I heard a
   wildcat slinking
   away.
   ANIMAL SOUNDS
   
5. The morning stars
   shone like silver petals
   .
   THE STARS
   
6. Nuts
   were scattered on the floor of the forest.
   FOREST EDIBLES
   
7. We took the
   leaf-carpeted path
   home.
   OTHER IMAGES
   
8. The beauty of the forest
   comforted our hearts
   .
   SENSATION
   
9. The smell of the forest was
   pulpy
   .
   SMELL
   
10. We picked some berries and they tasted
    orchard sweet
    .
    TASTE
    

                                
LEVEL 2: A BASIC PARAGRAPH

The forest was
tannin-brown
. The grass was
crispy
under our feet. We looked up and the trees were
skyscraper tall
. Hares were
scampering
away from us up ahead. The morning stars were
shining like silver snowflakes
.
Wood sorrel
flecked the blanket of grass. We walked in and out of
shady glades
. The peace of the morning was
soul soothing
. The forest’s smell was fresh and
organic
. We picked some wild pears and they were
meadow sweet
.

                                
LEVEL 3: CREATIVE PARAGRAPHS

The forest we entered was
oak-brown
and primitive. The grasses we stepped on were
crackly
beneath our feet because of the recent dry spell. We were in awe of the size and majesty of the trees. Their knotted arms rose ever upwards, as far as my head could lift. They were
hoary fortresses
and stood proudly. The orchestra of birdsong we could hear from them suddenly stopped. A pair of
jays was screeching
high up in the canopy of the trees. Jays are the scavengers of the bird world. Their cruel, corvid eyes are always on the lookout for a feathered meal. In the winter, they raid squirrel stores for their nuts, often damning them to starvation. They drifted across our vision in a flash of flesh-pink and warlock-black, trying to size us up. That was the last we saw of them, as they are a furtive bird, full of suspicion.

The morning stars peeped down at us
like silver asters
, glinting and shimmering. They looked happy in their solar-silver isolation. We could see
wild basil
growing freely on the
clumpy, mossy mattress
of the floor. The simpering wind carried a fragrance with it. It was
spirit refreshing to
smell the
mulchy mix
of the forest’s perfume. We ate a few windfall apples and they were
mead sweet
with
a bitter twist. It was only after we got the stomach cramps that we regretted it.

                                 LEVEL 4: ADVANCED PARAGRAPHS

We were walking through an
umber-brown
, ancient forest. It reeked of age. Its woody incense was from centuries of
snapping branches
crashing to the forest’s floor and rotting silently. The composting, organic smell rose up in waves like a miasma. Every sprawling tree we passed under reminded me of
a watchful guardian
, a silent sentinel of the groves. We decided to venture deeper into the tangled heart of this primeval forest. We hoped that it would reveal its dark secrets to us.

The further we went, the more mystical and spellbinding it became. Huge roots spread-eagled the ground, twisting like the great backs of sea dinosaurs. The foliage became thick and lush, forming an arch of fairytale-green above our heads. Arthritic boughs, gnarled with age, dripped their bounty of nuts onto the path. Briars, brambles and berry trees flanked the trail, making it impenetrable on either side.
Shuffling noises
came from deep in the interior, deadened by the cunningly woven web of leaves. A troupe of
shambling
badgers
crossed the winding trail in front of us at one point. They were finishing up their early morning foraging and looked startled to see us.

We arrived at a wide glade, where the trees fell away, revealing the bespeckled sky. The last of the morning’s stars were glinting
like silver pin pricks
, luminous and bright. An ore gold moon hung quietly in the distance, casting a honeyed sheen over the trees. We sat down with our backs against a lightning blasted tree trunk and watched it fade away. As if on cue, an avian aria erupted from the knot of trees. The solitary songbird was soon joined by his beaked companions, creating a symphony of song. The
heart haunting
melody was an elixir for the soul. The
sap sweet
fragrance
of the forest washed over us and we were seduced by its comforting goodness. We placed some
stinging nettle leaves
into the broth we were brewing and it added a
tingling, chlorophyll
flavour. When we were leaving, I risked a glance over my shoulder. The forest glade looked freeze frame perfect in the enhanced light of the full dawn.

            
LEVEL 5: COMPLEX WRITING: THE ENCHANTED FOREST

The enchanted forest beckoned me into its pulsing heart. How could I resist such a lush Garden of Eden? The deep, haunting ballad of its ancient song called out to me. As old as Adam, the forest was still steeped in plushness and opulence.

With a light heart, I plunged into the over-arching vault of leaf and limb. It was not what I had expected. The exquisiteness of the dawn’s light had not yet lanced to the lush, green sward. Because of this, hoods of black shadow hung in the groves.

Coils of vaporous mist enwrapped the shaggy heads of the oak trees. They writhed around them like a conjuror’s milky smoke, sensuous and illusory. Sieves of mist caressed the lichen-encrusted bark. Adding its phantasmal gas to the damp breath of the forest, it glided with deadly intent. It deadened sound, haunted glades and poured into empty spaces. A sepulchral silence overhung the hallowed ground where the trees dared not grow. Nothing stirred, nothing shone, nothing sang. A hollow echoing, like the hushed tones of a great, slabbed cathedral, entombed the wood.

Then a finger of supernal light poked through the misty mesh. It was followed by a whole loom of light, filtering down in seams of gold. Like the luminal glow of the gods, it chased the shadows, banished the gloom and spilled into spaces where the mist once stalked. The fluty piping of a songbird split the silence just as the forest became flooded with light. A fusillade of trilling and warbling detonated all around me as the primordial forest came alive with the troubadours of the trees. I darted between shafts of lustrous-gold light as I went, admiring the butterflies. They pirouetted in the air, their wings a-whirr like little ripples of silk.

The glory of the forest was revealed in the birthstone-bright light. Almond-brown trees stood serenely, awash with a tender glow. Their bark looked like riffled toast and gems of amber clasped their crusty exterior. The first blush of the morn gave the leafy bower a green-going-to-gold complexion.

Idling past suede-soft flowers, I caressed them softly, getting tingles in my fingers. My ears perked up at the metallic, tinkling sound of a stream. It flashed with a tinsel tint through the lace of leaves. When the trees parted, I could see it was sliding into an infinity-pool. The pool looked like a polished mirror of silver, with skeins of swirl-white twisting slowly on the surface. A shiny spillway led to a choppier pond. Boulders colonized the edges of the pond, buffed with pillows of moss. They caused a rocky gurgling as water met stone; a swish, a clunk, a swell and a clop. Sweet fragrances, alluvial and palliative, seemed to flit in and out of my awareness.  Sight and smell vied for attention in this soul-enriching dream world.

I put my back against a knobbly boulder, leaning my head against the mossy pillow. I closed my eyes, let my stream of consciousness take hold, and drifted into infinity. When I awoke, I couldn’t remember my dream, but softness and silvers still lingered in the memory of it.

  PATHETIC FALLACY AND PERSONIFICATION

Pathetic fallacy is giving
inanimate
(non-living) nature human terms
. This is the easiest definition of it, but there other rules to its use. It can also be used when
describing a character’s mood in
relation to the weather
. Sometimes it is better to pretend that it is called
‘empathetic mistakes’
as this is, quite literally, its definition. If you think about it, giving non-living, naturally occurring objects any emotion is a big mistake! When it is used effectively, pathetic fallacy can breathe life into a passage and make a student’s writing pleasant to the eye. Because the differences between pathetic fallacy and personification cause so much confusion, a grid system to help is below.

   INANIMATE NATURE                          WEATHER REFLECTING MOOD