My favourite place to go essay

The cul de sac was my favorite place. I loved to ride my bike in circles and read outside by the flowers that always smelled so sweet. Cars rushed past and I watched many pull in as time went on. It was my favorite place. The smell of food radiated from the kitchen as it does everyday my mom cooked.

My favorite place growing up, was the library of Downtown Swansea, I love the old book smell, like Petrichor, the pleasant smell that accompanies the first rain after a dry spell, it makes my mouth water. The librarian, much beloved by me was Shirley Johnson.

Barbara Kingsolver writes, “I have a place where all my stories begin,” and my story began at a lake house Self-Reflection Essay A reader is said to live thousands of lives before they die; a writer is the creator of those countless lives.

If you time it right early in the mornings and late in the night low tide takes place and you can find sand dollars and unique shells. Beautiful houses and hotels line the beach all with the same withered look they all strive to have, and balconies on every place to capture the view.