Linguistic Autobiography – My Favorite Fishing Spot

1.2 miles away from my red brick house is what seems like paradise. It’s early morning in July, and I am going up the driveway with my windows down in my silver 2008 Nissan X-Terra to Eugene’s, my favorite fishing spot. Fishing has always been a passion of mine, and it is the only thing I want to do in my free time. As my tires spin on the loose gravel, I can smell the fresh manure of the mammoth black cows which tends to leave a bad taste in your mouth. Once I reach the top of the windy road, I will be able to see the sun rising.

The crimson horizon over the field makes the hay and wildflowers light up as if they were Christmas lights. As the wind blows across the pasture, it forges a sea of wavy grass where most of the cows’ roam. The thick maple and oak trees which have a profusion of healthy and vibrant green leaves turn black as they sit in front of the sunrise. When I open my door, I step out onto the dewy grass. As I continue to walk, many scents rush through my nose.

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I can smell the fresh cut grass that I am standing on, the aroma of the sweet summer air, and the odor of the cow manure. The saccharine songs of a robin soothe me. The beautiful bird was sitting on the roof of the aging white barn.

On the sides of the barn, the paint has been chipped and peeled off due to the age of the building. Inside the barn, is where the cows stay at night. As I peek through a rotten plank, I can see a newborn calf as she learns to walk. The dogie stumbles around as it is not used to walking quite yet. I also observe the extensive amount of hay in the barn for the cows to eat. During the walk past the left side of the aged barn, there is a pin that connects the barn to the freshly cut meadows.

Just past the pin, comes another rolling hill filled with many grasshoppers jumping around and honeybees collecting nectar from any flower that they can find. As I walk through the tall grass, ready for the cows to graze on, you can hear the electricity…