Some lovely descriptive writing by Year 7 in response to a painting of a snowy farmyard.
Looking out of the window, I felt sorry for the poor sheep standing knee high in the cold, dusty- white snow. The fact that our fields had no colour whatsoever made our ancient barn look even grimmer than it actually was. All you could see were the tall, bald trees standing remotely to the right hand side. The snow was deep and solid at the bottom – no wonder our animals had to search for minutes to try to get a mouthful of grass.
The snow blanketed across the cold, hard ground where grass peeped out here and there. Sheep were dotted around and an old, derelict barn stood as it had for years, with snow, like icing sugar, dusted across the roof. The fence, that separated the fields, looked sad, as if it wanted to give up. Further on was the small shed next to the orchard of spindly trees. In the distance were evergreens with their colour blurred by the snow.
They both looked out of the window. The deep snow lay ready and beckoned us, preparing itself to be thrown about and trodden on. The sheep were looking puzzled about where the grass had gone, and they were thankful for their woollen fleeces. The trees were thin and brittle. The barn was lightly dusted with snow. The fence wilted under the weight of the snow, defeated and in need of a helping hand.
They both looked out of the window where the thick snow lay on the no-longer-visible, frosted grass. The only footprints engraved in the snow were those of the wandering sheep that were kept in that field. The huge, wooden barn, lightly dusted with snow, stood behind the field unknown to viewers on the outside, as it was so well concealed. The fence in front of the barn led to a small shed again dusted with snow, but this time more heavily. Small, bare trees were scattered around the field and a few taller ones huddled next to each other, as if they were deep in conversation.
They both looked out of the window and saw beautiful, thick snow spread out across the old farm. The black heads of sheep stood out from their white, snow-laden bodies. In the distance they could see huge fir trees shadowing the farm. A small, feeble shed lay between the old, rustic fence and the huge fir trees. Some smaller, sadder trees sat in the middle of the round patch of grass barely sheltered by the old, toothless fence.
They both looked out of the window. The sheep stood chilled to the bone, knee deep in a thick coating of snow. Snowflakes drifted helplessly down onto the scene. The crooked fence, over-shadowed by towering grass and unconvincing trees. The barn stood proud in the background, though growing older and weaker by the minute. The bulky fir trees decorated the grey sky. A little shack in the corner was coated in white, tired snow.