Describing a lake is made easy by using the examples below. These examples are taken from ‘Writing with Stardust’, the ultimate descriptive guide for students, teachers, parents and lovers of English.
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If you wish to view the full chapter in PDF, click here: DESCRIBING A LAKE
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LEVEL 1: BASIC SENTENCES
1. The lake was skyline-silver. COLOUR
2. It lay in the middle of a cave quiet valley. THE QUIET VALLEY
3. It was window clear. THE CLEAR LAKE
4. It was peaceful and statue still. THE STILL LAKE
5. Trout were dive bombing in the lake. SOUND
6. A mob of flies rose into the air. THE FLY ARMY
7. I had a ‘zap’ moment because it was so beautiful. A MOMENT OF CLARITY
8. The itching grass snapped me out of it. SENSATIONS OF PAIN
9. A sap sweet smell hung in the air. SMELL
10. The water I drank was sharp but pleasant. TASTE
LEVEL 2: A BASIC PARAGRAPH
The lake was as silver as diamond flame and the atmosphere was convent quiet. Even the depths were vodka clear. It was soothing and yogi still. Freckled trout were leaping for flies and thunking on its surface. The rising sun caused a division of armed flies to swarm into the air. The scene was so glorious that I had a lightning bolt moment. The thistles pricking my leg broke my train of thought. The damp grass smelled utopian. I took a sip of water from a stream. It tasted like a sweet medicine, a potion for the spirit.
LEVEL 3: CREATIVE PARAGRAPHS
The lake appeared as if by magic as we crested the ridge. It was in teardrop-silver in colour and it was shaped like a perfectly flat disc of metal. No sound rang out from the shimmering emptiness of space around it. Monastery quiet, it was lined with pine trees and the whiff of mint wafted up to us. We decided to make our way to its decanter clear shore. The idyllic scene took our breath away. Unruffled by wind or rain, it was vault still and restful. The only sounds were the bumbling of bees and the heavy echo of a raven crawking.
Out on the lake, flopping trout were slapping the surface. They were hoping to catch one of the squadron of flies that buzzed about. The heaven-leaking light added a golden tint to the face of the lake and it was paradise. A startling eureka moment came unbidden, which involved the beauty of the natural world. I kept it to myself. The nipping midges didn’t take away from the pleasure of that day. I can still see the rain-pearled grass in my mind’s eye. I remember the saccharine sweet smell of that grass. I remember that the water tasted like the nectar of the gods. Most of all, I remember how it felt to be young on that special day.
LEVEL 4: ADVANCED PARAGRAPHS
The lake was glimmering in the callow light of dawn. Local legend had it that a giant hand had scooped out a gash of rock aeons ago. Then a great heap of argent-silver was moulded and poured into it, hemmed in by precipitous hills.
A broad span of Tuscany-blue sky was slashed above it, making it appear like nature’s amphitheatre. The hollowness of the valley magnified all sounds, from burbling streams to the bumble of bees. The visage of the lake was veneer-clear and tranquil, flanked by an avenue of cedar trees. There was feng-shui perfection to the scene, while the water was gilded with moonlight-pale lilies. Plip-plopping fish caused concentric rings to puff out and disappear as the air hummed all around us. A phalanx of flies was patrolling the water’s edge, called into service by the heaven-filtering light.
Tolkein-esque ferns swayed beside a brook that spiralled down from a turf moor. The water had a peaty texture, but pools of molten gold lay naked in the light. At the bottom, smooth-edged stones glowed amber with a witchery uncommon to the modern world. I sat on a rock, admiring the glorious lustre of the water. The dale fell confessional-quiet. I had an alleluia moment then and yearned for a time when the world was young. A small thorn had spiked my foot, but it didn’t break my reverie. The rain-winkled grass cast a silver sheen and the dewy air was laden with cedar-sweet smells. On impulse, I reached down and sipped from the stream. The taste was a mixture of rosewater and chalybeate that thrilled the tongue.
With a sigh, I got up forged my way homewards. It was a place with an eldritch beauty all of its own. I resolved to return one day to this halcyon paradise.
For much more of the above, please check out my book Writing with Stardust which is now available on Amazon.