How do you write that descriptive essay you have been assigned? Actually writing a descriptive essay is easy. In a descriptive essay, you describe an event, but use details to make the event come alive. You paint a picture in your reader’s mind by using good details and description so he or she can see the event.
Here is sample descriptive essay:
Sample Descriptive Essay:
Walk into the local Piggly Wiggly and walk to the bread aisle. It looks like a tornado has hit it. The bread aisle is normally stacked with at least 20 different varieties of bread ranging from “Way Too Healthy – you don’t need that much fiber in a lifetime ” to the “Not-So Healthy White bread which is like eating white paste designed to block your intestines” .
But there are no stacks of bread, no hamburger buns, nor any hot dog buns. There are a few lonely loafs of bread still on the shelf which look like they have been run over by a shopping cart and then for good measure, someone jumped up and down on them, making sure the loaf of bread was thin enough to slide through a mail slot.
What has happen? What cataclysmic event had caused people to rush in, grab as many loafs of bread as possible, stacked them in their wobbly shopping carts, you know the ones with the cock-eyed wheels that go in the opposite direction you are pushing, so you have to lean heavily on one side of the cart handle, to even push it in a straight line.
It is the weather man’s fault. The one with the dyed brown hair that has spent his career on the low-budget local TV station. Other stations have radar; he has a white-board and a marker. He wears suits that don’t quite fit and in 20 years has not matched a tie with his shirt yet. He is a bit overweight and sucks his stomach in when turning sideways to point at the weather map, which is stuck with tape to the white board. He is pushing 50, hopes his toupee doesn’t fall off and fears he may be replaced by some cute blonde weather girl with pert breasts, a dazzling white smile and the inability to tell the difference between a cold front and a poodle.
But the weatherman has predicted snow. At least an inch may blanket cities like Jackson, Mississippi, Birmingham Alabama and even Atlanta. And this panics the typical Southerner, who knows that one inch of snow is not a trifling amount, but can destroy the entire power grid, cause snow drifts to block your doors and windows and you will be stuck inside with no food for at least a week until Sergeant Preston and the Mounties come to dig you out.
And when a friend told me to check the aisles at Piggy Wiggly, I though she was kidding. But these Southerners raid the bread, egg and milk aisles, leaving no prisoners, only misshaped loaf of breads, cracked eggs dripping from their cartons and one slim carton of milk, standing in the cooler, like the last soldier at Custer’s Last Stand, slowly leaking milk from the bottom of its carton.
And then when the snow arrives, mom and dad, throw the kids into the mini-van, and drive to the local park. The kids tumble out of the mini-van and land on their backs, like bugs, waving their feet in the air, hoping someone will come by and help them up. Normally they could stand up by themselves, but the temperature has plunged to 35 degrees and will only reach 50 degrees by noon. So the Southern mothers have heard about the importance of layers and the kids has thermal underwear on, snow pants, two long -sleeved shirts, a sweater, a fleece pull-over and a down jacket, looking much like Admiral Perry ready to take a dog sled across the Aortic.
But, and this is sad, having brought the new sled and having wrapped up Junior in enough layers to fend off the coldest Aortic blast, the parents arrive at the mud slide. That’s right. The one inch of snow melted in a minute, but parents, determined to give their children the winter experience, push them and their sleds down the hill and the sled slowly grinds down the hill, the mud splatters, hitting the kids in the face, and when the kids get to the bottom of the muddy hill, the sled’s runners are mired in a mud puddle, and the kids, coated by mud, sit with a glazed look on their faces, wondering what is so great about “the winter experience”.
At least when they get home, they will have plenty of bread to eat.