Impressions (A Walk in Lincoln Park)

Written for my feature writing class

1) The intensity of the sun stings my eyes until they water.
2) Gravel stabs the tender soles of my feet.
3) A scent of breaking soil and new plan life is suspended in my
nostrils.
4) Wind rolls up my blouse, the chill reminding me that summer isn’t
here yet.
5) I catch a fake, candy-like taste of fruit as I lick the gloss from
my chapped lips.
6) The alders sway like reluctant women, gowned in blossom and ruffle,
bending against the advances of the wind.
7) Thousands of leaves chatter and shake above my head.
8) The bracing cold bites my nose and I can’t help sniffing.
9) Daisies dapple the green carpet like lace or snow.
10) As I collapse into folds of grass, I see only blinding blue and
listen with a third-person’s objectivity as my lungs go in and out.