Blog 17 - Draft Essay 3

Draft Essay 3

Rebecca Wood
November 9, 2009
ENG 3017.01
Dr. Chandler

As the Seasons Change

Frozen snow covers my windshield wipers preventing them from moving. My tires are parked on top of an icy patch of emptiness, part of a section on the street, and the rims are filled with old dirty snow. There is a light mist of snow on the hood, windows, and trunk, appearing like sprinkled sugar over a silver countertop. My two snow scrapers, an extra pair of gloves, and an extra pair of snow boots lay quietly in the back seat, but I cannot retrieve them because my two doors are frozen shut. Icicles are trapped between the openings, as they hang down sharply, resembling blades. A layer of ice sits on top of the door handles, forcing them to gleam from the reflection of the sun.

I attempt turning the key into the slot, but that is ineffective. I pull on the handles, of both doors, strongly, but subtly in hopes of doing no damage to anything. I have no luck. I stomp up the stairs, leaving a trail of icy water, and wake up my dad for help. I am going to be late to school, again. My dad heats up some water in a coffee maker and pours it on the openings and the handles of both doors. The steam flows up in the air, like smoke, as the hot water hits the rugged shimmering pieces of glass and metal. The doors open and I immediately put the heat on. There is no significant smell, just cold air and my perfume. My black mats are not shiny. They are dirty and lifeless. They are tired of being stepped on with hard, cold snow boots. They want to be refreshed. My glittering, curvy, silver Marilyn gets me to school.

The last remains of the snow have melted and it’s time for a good wash and some cleaning. The scrapers, gloves, and snow boots are extinct, at least for now, and have been replaced with a light sweater, an extra cloth purse, and some text books for school. My sweater and purse are folded neatly in the trunk. My text books are thrown around in the back seat on top of grey blanket, which is also neatly folded in the center and matches the inside material of the seats. They are waiting for the last day of school. There is a purple tree with yellow flowers on it, hanging from my rearview mirror, releasing a floral scent.

My windows are moist from the previous rain and the slight damp cold that only occurs in the morning. My tires are parked on top of a few pink flower petals that lay scattered in the street. My black mats are damp, but regaining life. They are no longer topped with hard, cold snow boots, but with light Converses and colorful flats. My windows are slightly open, letting in a gentle breeze and the smell of rain. The radio is on medium, playing some song on the radio. I am on my way to somewhere enjoyable. My glittering, curvy, silver Marilyn gets me to the park, thankfully.

The rain has slowly faded away and the sun is usually always shining, even in the morning. The light from the sun shines on Marilyn, causing her to look beautiful and new. The silver looks like platinum. The windows glisten during the day and the tires are sparkling. The inside is automatically warm. An orange hangs from my rearview mirror, and a yellow smiley face hangs from the tuner of the radio, releasing an orange vanilla aroma throughout the whole. The back seat consists of several pairs of flip flops, two beach towels, and sun tan lotion. A pair of white sunglasses lay in a section behind the cup holders, whenever they are not on my face. There is no need for a sweater because the heat that is given to Marilyn from the enormously large sun keeps me warm enough, even with the windows open.

My windows are completely down and I can feel the warm subtle breeze that only occurs every so often, but I don’t mind and neither does Marilyn. My ipod is plugged in to the radio, playing on shuffle, loud and clear, so everyone outside can hear it too. It smells like sunshine and my Beach perfume. The inside of the trunk smells like chlorine. My black mats are happy. The rubber is dry and comforted. They are no longer stepped on at all, but tip toed upon with merely weightless flip flops, and sometimes just bare feet. I am singing and on my way to swim with friends. My glittering, curvy, silver Marilyn gets me to the pool, amazingly.

The leaves are beginning to fall and Marilyn is unfortunately covered in bird droppings. The windows are covered with wet orange leaves and some are stuck between my windshield wipers. This is all seeming a little too familiar to me. There is a pumpkin hanging in my rearview mirror and a Yankees shirt lying on top of the back seat, reflecting through the back window. It smells like cinnamon, but I don’t know why. My tires are parked on top of wet leaves that have lost their color and some pieces of branches. A towel, black pair of flip flops, and a dirty chlorine filled bed sheet remain in the trunk after the last endless days and nights that once occupied my time.

My black mats are recovering from the fulfilling sunshine days and warm nights consisting of long talks and singing. They are happily tired, but prepared. An air freshener and a tub of bubble gum occupy the space of my cup holders. The heat is on for approximately two minutes and then the windows are put down, as I turn the knobs, without any automatic assistance, letting in the air that is soon to be cold and distant. (ADD MORE HERE) My glittering, curvy, silver Marilyn gets me to school, once again.

**my focus has slightly changed from my previous blog. I am focusing on the seasons changing and how life continues, as a circle. I am still incorporating my feelings during these times, but subtly, not really including specific events throughout a year, but the seasons and where my car takes me during these seasons, which reflects my likes/dislikes.