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Backyard Description
Backyard Description
On the other side of the window in the suburb of Lincolnshire, IL a ravishing scene is unfolding, one that definitely deserves a closer look. Once in the open air, it is obvious that it is that time of year again. My backyard has fully awoken from hibernating in its long, cold slumber and sprung to life. Gone is the dead of winter and half-consciousness of spring; here is the bright and busy season so long-awaited. I take a moment to allow the senses in my body to take over and intake the signals of the air that summer has arrived.
It is truly a mesmerizing sight to behold. Everything is bathed in golden sunlight, except for the long, still shadows cast on the ground. My own shadow stretches out beside me like a taller twin. A short, emerald carpet rolls out before me, the freshly cut blades scattered in every which way. Dozens of mosquitoes dart around, seeking its prey to fill their hunger. A blur of brown fur with a wagging tail is running off in pursuit of them. My dad is straining behind a huge lawnmower that is eating up the yard and spitting out a trail of fresh green cuttings. His sun tanned face lights up when he sees the sparkling glasses of lemonade in my hands. The sun above is an unbearably bright, cartoon shaped clouds, the sky vast as an ocean. Flowers all around the size of dinner plates are opening its petal upwards to absorb the beneficial rays. Some of the smaller flowers have limp petals and wrinkled stems. My mom has picked up the long green hose that slithers across the law in an attempt to revive the withering plants that suffered the harsh seasons. The mouth of the hose spits out water falling like waves in an inconsistent matter. A few brown earthworms are wiggling in the mud, while the neighboring army of ants panics over its disturbed home. My backyard has suddenly become a scene from an outdoor documentary in HD.
Then there are the sounds of the season that reach my ears like music. The snap of terrier jaws comes from across the lawn, and then the pitter-patter of little paws still chasing off mosquitoes. The persistent puppy is panting, and every now and then there is the sound of his tongue lapping up water from the bowl on the patio. The swaying tag on his collar clangs like a bell as it beats against the rim of the metal dish. I can hear the dying roar of the lawnmower and the scrape of the shed door being opened. From the direction of the garden comes the squeaky turn of the hose faucet and then the last few drops of water pattering onto the dirt. Moments later there is the slithering of the hose being wound up. Then a hum starts beneath my feet and the sprinklers begin to hiss. The spray of water pounds against the house windows. There is also the sound of ice cubes clinking inside the glasses of lemonade on my tray. However, all of these noises are almost drowned out by the vibrating of countless hidden cicadas. Nature's song is telling me that what I suspected is true.
There are other signs in my backyard that give me further confidence. The heavy metal tray grows slippery in my sweating hands, and the frost on the glasses melts and causes water droplets to race down my fingers. My face is very hot, as if all of the sun's rays are focused upon it. I can feel sweat trickling down my face and burning my eyes, and my shoulders are beginning to feel the sting of severe sunburn. The grass blades tickle my bare feet, but the cool mud brings my toes relief. The only breeze I feel is that caused by my dog racing by my legs, but some of the sprinklers' mist fortunately reaches me. There is, of course, that infamous itchy feeling caused by grass blades sticking to wet skin. The nauseatingly sweet smell of lemonade reaches my nose. There is also a hint of perspiration and suntan lotion in the air. The most obvious scents are those of fresh cut grass and churned earth. These are all telltale signs of a beginning season.
All of my senses are picking up one beautiful message: summer is here. All of the beautiful summer colors are visible, and all of nature is singing. I recognize the touch of summer's hand, and the smells of my baking backyard. Memories of summers past sweep into my mind. All of these familiar details bring with them the excitement of a new summer unfolding before me and the chance to make more memories.