Writing with Stardust: The Ultimate Descriptive Guide for students, parents, teachers and writers Read Online Free Page B
grumbling sound came from the largest of them.
A mighty chunk of snow came toppling down from the gnarled face of the mountain. It looked like a cascade of white as it tumbled and rumbled downwards. With a deafening roar, it plummeted over the hoary shoulder and settled in a mighty heap. Then there was a dreadful silence. Nothing stirred. Nothing sounded. Nothing sang.
The silence was ruptured by the slow, mournful howl of one of our camp dogs. He could sense that climbing those zephyr haunted mountains tomorrow would invite disaster. Yet climb them we would, as that was our goal. Our sponsor would pay dearly for evidence of the yeti and we were determined to provide it. We were at five thousand feet and the air was thin and crisp. The snow-cloaked mountains hemmed us in on all sides, daring us to reach their stalagmite shaped peaks.
A vast sheet of ice lay in front of us. We had reached a wide plateau. It was eerie and looked Cossack-cold. It was a featureless terrain, a place with a harsh and stark beauty. It reminded me of the opening scene of ‘Frankenstein’, when he clumped through the zombie-white snow. Stunted dwarf trees had been seen lower down, but not even they could survive this. Devoid of life and leaf, the rocky acoustics made it sound like a crypt. The only sounds were the huffing of dogs, the swish of skis and the curses of men.
The dimming sun framed a great sweep of lonely , birdshell-blue sky . It was our cue to set up camp before attacking the summit tomorrow. Night’s dark mantle closed in around us and the thermometer plunged. It became Siberian cold so we set up a fire. Supper that night was a bubbling broth and it tasted galactic . We all stared into the crackling fire, each of us wrapped in our own thoughts. Tomorrow would bring the risk of death and disaster with it.
LEVEL 5: COMPLEX WRITING: THE LONELY TOMB
They hated us. Their complexion may have been halo-white , but they hated us all the more for it. We were standing in a vast pan of emptiness, with only sky above and death below. It was a great gash of valley half way up the Himalayas, stretching out for endless miles. On either side, indomitable mountains loomed, enfolding in on our minds with their might. We knew they hated us as much as the last expedition, whose remains we were sent to find.
The winds glacial breath swept through the valley, licking it with its icy caress. It neither moaned nor sighed, nor made any sound at all. It simply haunted the valley, constantly gnawing at us with its ravening fangs. A thundering sound suddenly filled the air, replacing the silence. A huge swathe of snow detached itself from the rumpled side of the mountain. It tobogganed past the furrowed brow , swooping towards its own ruin. Then, with a mighty crash and the phuffing sound of a blanket billowing, it finally came to rest.
A deathlike shush spilled into the valley. All was silent. All was still. We peered up at the snow-wreathed summit to see if there would be another avalanche. Above it, the sky leered down at us with a manacle-grey hue, like an ashen face. It seemed to compress down upon our minds, such was its throttling effect. Our hearts became heavy as both sky and mountain entombed us with an alien emptiness. The mountains seemed to us to be as inflexible and dangerous as a dragon’s back . Bereft of either sound or spirit, we stood there transfixed. Even the silence seemed strangled at that moment. We felt like pasty shadows, insignificant, under the immensity of the cadaverous sky. The lonely cry of an eagle suddenly rang out, giving us hope. Not all life had been garrotted out of this godforsaken land.
We walked on, marvelling as the sun broke through the bank of iron-grey cloud. It reflected back to us in a trident of blazing-blues, star flame-silvers and wizard-whites. Our boots crunched through the powdered snow. They detonated like muffled grenades every time we stepped, banishing
A mighty chunk of snow came toppling down from the gnarled face of the mountain. It looked like a cascade of white as it tumbled and rumbled downwards. With a deafening roar, it plummeted over the hoary shoulder and settled in a mighty heap. Then there was a dreadful silence. Nothing stirred. Nothing sounded. Nothing sang.
The silence was ruptured by the slow, mournful howl of one of our camp dogs. He could sense that climbing those zephyr haunted mountains tomorrow would invite disaster. Yet climb them we would, as that was our goal. Our sponsor would pay dearly for evidence of the yeti and we were determined to provide it. We were at five thousand feet and the air was thin and crisp. The snow-cloaked mountains hemmed us in on all sides, daring us to reach their stalagmite shaped peaks.
A vast sheet of ice lay in front of us. We had reached a wide plateau. It was eerie and looked Cossack-cold. It was a featureless terrain, a place with a harsh and stark beauty. It reminded me of the opening scene of ‘Frankenstein’, when he clumped through the zombie-white snow. Stunted dwarf trees had been seen lower down, but not even they could survive this. Devoid of life and leaf, the rocky acoustics made it sound like a crypt. The only sounds were the huffing of dogs, the swish of skis and the curses of men.
The dimming sun framed a great sweep of lonely , birdshell-blue sky . It was our cue to set up camp before attacking the summit tomorrow. Night’s dark mantle closed in around us and the thermometer plunged. It became Siberian cold so we set up a fire. Supper that night was a bubbling broth and it tasted galactic . We all stared into the crackling fire, each of us wrapped in our own thoughts. Tomorrow would bring the risk of death and disaster with it.
LEVEL 5: COMPLEX WRITING: THE LONELY TOMB
They hated us. Their complexion may have been halo-white , but they hated us all the more for it. We were standing in a vast pan of emptiness, with only sky above and death below. It was a great gash of valley half way up the Himalayas, stretching out for endless miles. On either side, indomitable mountains loomed, enfolding in on our minds with their might. We knew they hated us as much as the last expedition, whose remains we were sent to find.
The winds glacial breath swept through the valley, licking it with its icy caress. It neither moaned nor sighed, nor made any sound at all. It simply haunted the valley, constantly gnawing at us with its ravening fangs. A thundering sound suddenly filled the air, replacing the silence. A huge swathe of snow detached itself from the rumpled side of the mountain. It tobogganed past the furrowed brow , swooping towards its own ruin. Then, with a mighty crash and the phuffing sound of a blanket billowing, it finally came to rest.
A deathlike shush spilled into the valley. All was silent. All was still. We peered up at the snow-wreathed summit to see if there would be another avalanche. Above it, the sky leered down at us with a manacle-grey hue, like an ashen face. It seemed to compress down upon our minds, such was its throttling effect. Our hearts became heavy as both sky and mountain entombed us with an alien emptiness. The mountains seemed to us to be as inflexible and dangerous as a dragon’s back . Bereft of either sound or spirit, we stood there transfixed. Even the silence seemed strangled at that moment. We felt like pasty shadows, insignificant, under the immensity of the cadaverous sky. The lonely cry of an eagle suddenly rang out, giving us hope. Not all life had been garrotted out of this godforsaken land.
We walked on, marvelling as the sun broke through the bank of iron-grey cloud. It reflected back to us in a trident of blazing-blues, star flame-silvers and wizard-whites. Our boots crunched through the powdered snow. They detonated like muffled grenades every time we stepped, banishing
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