A storm is a weather pattern characterized by an extended period of destructive, heavy rain and often hail.
The essay “a stormy day” is a descriptive essay about the author’s experience of a stormy day. The essay includes descriptions of how the weather made her feel, and how it affected her mood.
It was a depressing view out the window. Massive clouds were sweeping over the sky, which was pitch black. On the window, there was a tapping sound that evolved into a pitter-patter. People rushed outdoors for safety as the clouds spit out their water drops, and umbrellas were opened. Puddles started to develop as the rain became more intense. The rain murmur could be plainly heard through the glass as the automobile roofs swirled with spray. It sounded like a swarm of furious bees buzzing about.
The sky had been picture-perfect until the clouds started to build in the sky, but that was about to change. The wonderful cocktail-blue hue has faded to a gravel-grey hue. The sun’s old-gold color was being obscured by large cloud pillows.
When the first spatter of rain falls, the rain was halfway over the meadow. Many people sought shelter behind an ancient tree, hoping to see through the rain. Droplets of water began to trickle from the leaves. They were using a yard hose to irrigate the grass. The storm got increasingly violent as the day progressed. Raindrops tapped on the canopy as a wall of rain swept over the oak. Because of the amount of rain, the sound was mixed into a single long, whirring noise. It reminded everyone of the rotor blades of a helicopter. The drips soon dissipated into a lovely tinkling as the noise faded away.
The sun shined brilliantly once again, illuminating the field with slanted beams of light. Steam slowly rose from the grass. It rose weirdly, drifting mistily toward the molten-gold light. Because it was so vivid, the visual stayed with me all the way home.
It all began with a whisper in the air. The day had been beautiful, and the sky had been like a plasma blue dome. Under the gleaming disc of light, the clouds looked to be airy anvils moving.
Just as the fall Reaper’s moon emerged above the woods, they had erected their tent. The moon seemed to convert the leaves into a blaze of fiery yellows, lava-reds, and burnished-browns. It added an odd gleam to an otherwise stunning scene. A voracious thrush, snail a-tapping on rock, was heard by most of us; he devoured his meal before flying into the forest’s owl-light. The solemn shriek of a lonely fox echoed through the vault-still calm of the woods. Then a burst of wind sprang up and ruffled their tent’s flaps. We heard a tinkling sound as the first drops of rain dropped into the leaves. Like the dazzling clinking of a champagne glass, the sound was lovely and clear. When a sheet of rain fell on us, the sound got even louder.
The sounds on the tent sounded like the phut-phut-phut of ripening nuts hitting the ground. It didn’t sound like spring’s gentle, sodden, bloated drips; it sounded like ball-bearings pounding on the canvas roof. There was also the sound of ker-plunking from time to time. In a massive swash of release, the rains that had gathered on the tent dropped to the ground.
The temperature dropped as we huddled close and shivered in the tent. There was no need for us to be alarmed. The rain had stopped by the time daylight arrived. As an explosion of singing burst from the drenched trees, it was as if the rain had never fallen.
‘The sun is the source of life. The rain facilitates its development.’
The winter sky is a widow’s sky, overcast and crying. In this stormy day, the clouds are ungrateful and Kraken-cruel. They cough forth massive gouts of water and thunking balloons of moisture. It comes down in a biblical rain, causing rivers to flood, fields to drown, and dams to overflow. It’s a downpour like to Noah’s Ark, with a never-ending flow of water dripping from the sky.
Cities are overwhelmed, and power disruptions leave residents fearful of what will happen next. It never stops raining. Like bracken pods in a blaze, a stormy day crackles and snaps. The sky’s floodgates have been opened, and no one seems to be there to shut them down.
Is this anything out of a science fiction movie? Is it a dreadful foretaste of the future? It obviously isn’t the case. From Missouri to Manchester, Mumbai to Melbourne, it has become the new normal. Rain, according to news reports, has become man’s new foe. It is the public’s most vehement foe. It has turned against man and has become the most destructive arrow in nature. Rain has a bad reputation at the moment. Is this the proper viewpoint? Perhaps we are overlooking the benefits it bestows.
The sky is a lovely, pellucid blue in the spring. The clouds look to be delicate and heavenly. They’re carried by a soft, ruffling breeze. The soil on Mother Earth is titanium hard and in serious need of nourishment. Rainfall is light and foggy. It’s as delicate as a Scottish smirr, and the misty dew on your face feels like warm butter melting. One by one, the icy fingers of winter’s chilly fist are unlocked. Flowers in the meadows delicately unroll and ripple like coral arms at low tide. A contented murmur emanates from the rivers. The first spring rains have come, as pure and sparkling as an angel’s tears.
Summer sky are brilliantly colored and neon-blue. The meadow’s sun-kissed petals are starting to fade. They ask for an insulin injection to revive their dry petals as they gape at the tufty clouds. As the clouds relent, rain falls in glittering silver droplets. The droplets would feel as glistening and dazzling on your skin as champagne bubbles if you stood in the meadow. The rain generates a soothing thrumming sound, similar to white noise from nature.
On a rainy day, silver drops of water enter the earth, reviving the life-roots of the plants below. As the dewy tears of summer rain wash and refresh the ground, it emits a familiar baked-earth odor. Following the first rain after a dry time, the odour of petrichor rises like a miasma. It has a pleasant jasmine-and-gingerbread scent, and it leaves a sweet sensation on the tongue. The farmer is overjoyed. The rain has replaced what the sun would have taken away.
The sky in October is gloomy and furious. The wind becomes enraged. It’s a screeching, keening forewarning of approaching disaster. On a stormy day, the clouds speed across the sky, pulsating with the charged energy they want to unleash.
It all starts with a few large, dropping drips of water. They’re indiscriminate and wild, plump mass-destruction missiles splattering over the soft soil. It makes no difference whether the topsoil decomposes into mushy goo. With a poker and a joyful sigh, the farmer stokes the bright flames with the harvest. Rain is squeezing and hissing down from the roof, swarming onto the soft earth. The farmer analyzes the fact that most gifts have monetary worth. He dreads the prospect of another winter, but is grateful that the rain has once again provided for his needs.
Rain is the nectar of the gods and the serum of the sky, according to him. He isn’t a philosopher, writer, or jungle explorer, yet he recognizes the value of nature’s richness. If God’s trademark is beauty, rain is his finest accomplishment.
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A descriptive essay is a piece of writing that describes something in detail. This can be an event, place, or person. A stormy day is one of the most descriptive days you can have. The weather changes drastically and it’s very cloudy. Reference: a descriptive essay.
Frequently Asked Questions
How would you describe a stormy day in writing?
A: Often stormy days are gray and cloudy, there is a lot of wind, with high winds and rain. The sky will often be dark outside with heavy clouds covering the sun. Storms can cause power outages in some areas as well as damage to buildings from lightning strikes.
How would you describe the storm?
How do you start a descriptive essay?
A: To write a descriptive essay, you should start by describing the setting. Next, you should describe the characters in detail and their personalities. You should also include any relevant emotions that may be felt while reading or watching something like this- guilt, fear of ruin etc. Finally, you can conclude with a call to action for your audience (e.g., “read more about how this happened”)
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