Personal Narrative - The Rice Fields of Home :: Personal Narrative, Autobiographical Essay

The Rice Fields of Home I remember the big Gingko tree on the little hill. It was an gray-haired tree, shaped like a grandma with her curved thorn and furrowed body. I loved how its leaves turned golden yellow during the autumn. I c eithered them, Eun-hang Ip. Whenever the breaking wind blew, it was s instantering yellow, and I was covered with them. I would often doze off in that yellow blanket while the sunshine held my feet with her warm hands and the easy breeze brushed my hair. In my dreams, I climbed that tree all the focus up and reached the clouds--the white cotton candies. Carefree, worry free my younger years... Everything seemed so beautiful in my eyes. Mother Nature was with me and she filled the absence of my existing mother during my childhood my daily life started with the satisfying weather and terminate without complaints. All four seasons shared their charm equally and decorated my memories with their pretty details. I never forget m y grandpas sky-blue old-hat(p) rhythm and its two gigantic wheels. It didnt have a break, only when it made a little squeak sound every now and then which brought out more of its oldie character. I would paddle that bicycle through my peaceful, car-less road. The trees on the side of the road with their arms arched inwards made the way seem like a tunnel. The little bits of sunbeams that sneaked in between the leaves, looked like the sparkling Christmas tree lights. When the tree tunnel terminate the paddling also stopped, and the gravity took control because it was going down the hill. With the sudden speedup and the bursting of full blazing sunshine, I closed my eyes, feeling the speed all over my body. Red, pink, yellow, and white Cosmos flowers, which replaced the trees on the side, were the first colors back into my little peaking eyes. As I rode through the flower tunnel, now loath and calm again, I could hear the fall wind whistle. Time of harvest, a six ye ars old me running around and following my family, was a busy time. All the rice fields, which were once covered with rice plants, were cut.