children - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
The tree hunkered low to the windswept hill as if it wanted nothing more than to be sheltered by the tall grasses that waved golden in the late autumn wind. Its branches fanned out wide, separating from each other like the petals of a blossom only a metre or so from the ground. I think that's why we kids all loved it so much. We could climb it in just minutes and shimmy out along the rough limbs until we could see out over the surrounding fields. It was a secret hideout every kid in the village knew about, plus all the ex-kids, which was pretty much everyone. Even when the village council built a fancy playground it didn't get half as much use tree. It had no safety gravel and no tinny slide that seemed to grip jeans in damp weather. It was ours: adventurous, naughty and, best of all...secret.
Youthful spirits rise with food as rapidly as does a thermometer under the sun's rays and a good deal of noise and romping invariably accompanied these games.
The children loved Barbara, and usually ran to meet her like a drove of stampeded animals, but on this morning, when they saw her coming accompanied by a stranger, they remained huddled on the steps of the schoolhouse.
“Dad, I want to ask you a question.”
Andrew heard his son, but kept reading his magazine without looking up.
“Dad. I said, I want to ask you a question.”
“Okay, son, what is it?
“Dad, teacher says that the “h” is silent in ghost.”
“That’s right. What about it?”
“Well, if it doesn’t do anything, why did they leave it in the word?”
“Nobody knows. You have to learn that it’s there. That’s all.”
“I think they should get the “h” out of there.”
“Son, when you’re right, you’re right.”