The Hill-Personal Narrative

Hill - personal story For a 10 - year - old child, this is the only reason for life. The only reason for getting up in the morning. The only reason to go home immediately after getting off the bus. I received this gift on my 10th birthday morning. I woke up and I heard the sound my house sang in my room. "... Betsy Happy Birthday ... I wish for you a happy birthday." I can listen to them now. When I finally got up from the bed, I was surprised that the pink rope was tied to my door.

I am also absorbed in Eastend. Enter the hillside, the eastern end of Cypress Mountain. It was desolate, nobody, no way, only wavy prairie. You may feel that you are the only one alive, the hill is increasing, you do not notice the edge of the hill, dramatic vista, grassy wind blows. . When I walked, I collected rocks hidden in the tall grass. And I revealed white mud and striped wasteland. I brought back many pounds of rock, my pockets filled and my hat was pulled off and sometimes my shirt was shattered by a hammock to keep more. I took a picture of something that is too big to move or have local clothing. Everything about this collection and attention is essential to me.

You can see the hill from the balcony of the room. We went there this morning. A rocky hill is situated beside us, with easy access to stone walls and Plasencia buildings. That hill is not a quarry just to make a stone. The quarry granite granted the chiseller and Mason a whetstone. They became circle, and they were released from "living" rocks. The Jerte River surrounds the Plasencia where the factory is still standing and the canals that supply them. Rivers and canals are currently very expensive, mountain rain and snow are also so. I walked along Jerte yesterday. We left and the pensioner left, the dog left and the father and the infant walked together in the afternoon sun. Trees, water and sunshine, walks are purely fun