steps - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
Anyone climbing the steps stood straight into the sky, and the wind in their clothes and the sky with it's scarves of cloud and the trumpet shapes of the trees, made the figures like gay and flimsy dancers cut from paper.
The steps were fashioned from various sized boulders. The rise of one step could be ankle high and the next several inches above knee height so that you'd have to clamber onto it like a toddler onto a dining chair.
The steps were a jaunty yellow sandstone with not a weed in sight. Terracotta pots stood like welcoming ceremonial guards, overflowing with the pomp of summer blooms, their gaily colored trumpets playing a sweet, melodious concert for the eyes.
The steps dropped precipitously into the swelling, murky gloom. Dark mists lapped at his feet as chilling as a December tide. His feet echoed on the clammy steps and loose pebbles skited and skimmed into the blackness. The aroma of damp loam and sodden bark crawled low under the sweet scent of pine needles that swirled with the mists and pervaded his senses.
The steps had an unstable look to them. The rough wooden treads were haphazardly nailed to two rotten looking planks with right angled triangles cut from them. The flimsy looking banister bowed as if it were a piece of string cheese and wobbled at the merest touch.
Wide steps of palest concrete erupted from the plaza, ascending between the candy pink, lemon sherbet and blueberry painted terraced houses that stood three stories high, iced with brilliant white cornices as pretty as any cake. Sweet perfumed hanging baskets waved gaily from ornate licorice balconies.
The stone steps rose steeply with high rises and narrow treads. Each step was only a child's pace in width and they wound up the mountain like a grey stone stream. Each step was weathered and worn with thousands of footfalls over eons, thousands of unique and personal pilgrimages to the vistas above.