Willow's Bomb Shelter

My Special Place by Willow

My Special Place is a bomb shelter. People used to go there for safety during the 2^nd World War. It is in London in a pretty orchard in Shepherds Bush. The special thing about it is that when you approach it, it doesn't look like a bomb shelter because it is camouflaged in greenery. This is good because nobody bothers with it, so my friend and I get the whole load of fun all to ourselves.

An Anderson Shelter

 As I go towards an apple green lump of camouflaged moss and scrambled brambles and greenery, memories flood back. The dandelions stained the lump a canary colour. A friend and I ran towards the lump and walked round its humongous remains. Round the other side there were rusty bars. We couldn’t touch them because if we did then we would start to rust, ourselves. Inside it was a whole different story. It was like an ashen tortoise with small snakes slithering up the sides. The lump was officially an Anderson Bomb-Shelter.  We were explorers on a wild quest to find the golden box, but there was something stopping us: the dusty horizon was trickling with Native Americans, armed with bows and arrows. We used to play this game whenever we got back from school, (but the best day to play cowboys and Indians was bonfire night). Only because the fireworks were like our own gunfire and because only just having a narrow escape gave the whole scene a greater effect. The hypnotising wisps of fireworks sprayed the night in blooming bursts of colour. Once we reached the bomb shelter an unpleasant sight fed our eyes: the old thing was no longer cared for. Everything was smothered in dirt and grime. Countless woodlice stood motionless (slightly camouflaged against its grotesque surroundings).

Many shouts from my little friend flooded my ears, or was it the wailing fireworks streaming across the sky, causing great stripes to pop out of the sky. The bonfire cackled its evil laugh. We would dare each other to throw branches into its blazed flames. Once we did this we would soon regret it as a sudden cacophony of wood cracking then burning. More shouts from people I know.  Then a cascading sound of Catherine Wheels and blue firework fountains bombarded our eyes with discordant sounds. Some fireworks wailed and screeched and some went out with a tremendous bang. The fireworks were fizzing professionally, as they split the sky into a dazzling scene. We were still running away from the crafty Indians as their wailing screeches stained our ears, so that our terrified calls were drowned in a whirlpool of sounds.

I can remember the strong smell of smoke that was projecting out of the crackling bonfire. The strong aroma of the puffy marshmallows softly toasting in the flames, filled our nostrils with a delightful scent. Only fireworks with a strong smell were projected into the black satin sky. The mindboggling display that was viewed and witnessed was shortly followed by an even more mindboggling smell of burning. I was shortly wondering if it was possible for the sky catch fire, but luckily it didn’t.

I clutched the dead piece of wood in my hand. It was damp but my hand was determined to fling it into the bonfire. I can fell the warmth that was lingering around it. I felt the wood slowly leave my fingers as it was in my hand one minute and the next minute it was roasting in the hungry flames of the luminous beast. Its flames were curling evilly, luring its prey into the depths of its cruel, burning heart. The warmth increased as more branches were flung onto it’s out-of-bounds remains. Gooey marshmallows were showing off its pleasurable delights to the rest of my mouth. If the marshmallows were to be sandwiched in-between two chocolate digestive biscuits (like they did) then all my senses would be focused on one as I tasted real heaven. That’s most of my memories of the orchard and the Anderson bomb shelter.

Cheadle in Staffordshire by Rani

The special place I have chosen is the breath-taking location of Cheadle in Staffordshire; it seems an  extraordinary place  to me because I have many joyful memories from there- many of them are from when I was really young, which somehow makes the memories even more indented in my mind. Cheadle is a really stunning location; here are just a few reasons why.

Come Christmas-time, Cheadle is decorated with stunning Christmas lights, chubby Santa’s, lively reindeer and twinkling Christmas trees are attached to the roofs  of peoples houses, drowning Cheadle in light. Every house has a warm glow, with people inside merrily dancing, singing and talking; all sat around the magnificent Christmas trees.

The only noise in Cheadle is the enchanting song of the morning birds, sitting high in the trees and the distant dog bark from somewhere in the hills. These noises are relaxing yet awakening in the early morning, and it is only far into the day when you hear a horse and carriage come trotting around the village.

In the summer, Cheadle is embellished with trees that wave in the calm breeze, the striking green grass in the parks and the sun giving off its heat at exactly the right temperature that makes Cheadle seem even more beautiful than it already is.

The market is a place of exquisite sounds, smells and sights; it is a bustling indoor market selling everything under the sun. From sweets to dog baskets and from scarves and hats to craft kits and stationery.  The business yet calmness of the market is mesmerising, shouts of the stall owners is relaxing although unbelievably deafening and always, without fail, you will buy something memorable at the market.

I ‘m sure that you understand now, how beautiful Cheadle is, and that your memories from there will remain with you forever….

By Rani

Southwold by Olivia

My special place is called Southwold in Norfolk. I’ve only been there a handful of times but I’ve enjoyed every single moment of it. Southworld is small but every street holds a different past.

Sight:                                             

When I first went to Southwold the first thing I saw was the many beach huts along the board walk. They were personalized and some of them look really funky. My favourite beach hut was called ‘THE BANANA HUT’.  Southwold also had a pier with a café on it and small souvenir shops, it also had this old fashion and really weird arcade games e.g. walk the dog, put your hand in the cage. I mostly spent my money there.

Smell:

The smell was mouth watering as you could smell popcorn, candyfloss, ice cream and my all time favourite fish and chips.

 Sound:

You could hear many things like.  Laughter along the beach and the pier, seagulls and The Waves crashing on to the shore, but when you walked into the town it was quiet and old fashioned like a movie in the 1960’s

Touch: Although Southwold had beautiful scenery but there was a down side there were Wasp’s. Tons of Wasps.

Madame Tussauds by Lilly

Madame Tussauds

This special place fills my heart with excitement; just seeing the wax-work celebrities is so much fun! The queues are immense, but worth it. Tourist are the main people who fill Madame Tussauds, the popularity of them is increasing day by day. I love this place, an outstanding place to be; talking to Big Brother (A Channel 4 TV Show) in the Big Brother House. Viewing celebrities Young, old, new, dead. A…M…A…Z…I…N…G…!  When I go to Madame Tussauds (Normally twice a year) there is always something new, What Can The Future Hold?01

My mind is engulfed with tremendous memories back in the past at Madame Tussauds. My favourite most yet is seeing my face going inside the ghost train area, I was positive to go on the ghost train and that I could cope with the scariness. I Stood in line asking my mum what it would be like, all she could think of saying was, “Are you sure, it’s going to be scary. Can you deal with that?” I kept answering “yes!” but how did I know until I got right inside, I was in the queue hoping for it to hurry up. I was about six when I first went to Madame Tussauds, It was a great experience. When I finally got nearer to going inside, I looked around, staring at the heads hung from the ceiling; I was frightened Crazy, I screamed loudly, Madame Tussauds could have fallen down! My Heart was pounding ready to burst out of my chest, I walked away tensing my mother’s hand tight. As Tight as Tight can be!  That’s it; I was gone from that dungeon to enjoy the rest of my day.

Everyday, there is a new sound to hear, the noises made by some of the celebrities (eg. Jamie Oliver, he is right at the end of the Madam Tussauds journey, he is near the café (you can properly tell, him being a chef, it all makes sense)).

I can also hear everyone’s chattering to their children or friends who each person is. It’s very exiting to hear others and how they feel.

In the holidays it’s extremely packed with all different people, babies –toddlers –children –tweens -teens-young adults- adults- elderly; its full! I try to avoid going in holiday time as the queues are horrendous. I get in free because when I was younger I performed on blue peter; I got awarded a blue peter pass.

Would you like to explore Madame Tussauds?, be able to have pictures with them? Its in Baker Street, So get going and enjoy your self!

By Lilly

Cornwall by Khalida

I’m writing about Cornwall as my special place. It is one of my special places because of the following things that I thought was the best about it.

The Cottage

The cottage I stayed in had a small living room, a fire place and a small TV. I had a small box room with a bedside table with a lamp and a window which had the view of the seaside. My mum and dad shared a room that was big with a huge wardrobe a four poster bed and 2 windows with the view of the countryside!

The Bedroom

I think my room was the most special place to me of the whole cottage because it was very warm and cosy. Like I said I had a lamp. I liked the lamp because of the lamp shade around it and it was really bright. But always in the middle of the night I didn’t know how to turn it on so I always used to wake up, my dad to turn it on for me. He got really annoyed!

The Seaside

The sea was and azure blue colour it twinkled in the sunlight. The shore was pebbly so it was easy to find shells. Unfortunately for us it was too cold to paddle so we had a shell hunt. The shells were sparkling and beautiful. There were lots of fishing boats out at sea.                                  

Bike Riding

The bike riding was fun. My mum rode a bike and my dad rode a bike with a carriage attached and I was in it. When we were riding across the bridge we stopped every now and then to collect shells and stones that I like. Unfortunately that was the last thing we did in Cornwall. But it was amazing all the same. I enjoyed Cornwall that is why it is one of my special places.    

Cholwell by Isabella

My Special Place

When I step out of our car into the old hotel car park, the first thing I notice is the faint, somewhat sickening but also quite comforting smell of the countryside. The vines wrap around the old hotel castle-like buildings, and the sound of the river running through the town are always there to greet me upon my arrival. I climb the old stone steps with my heavy green suitcase, and push the stiff back door to the hotel.

The carpet in the hotel is a warm red colour, and the walls a yellowy gold. There is always a fire burning in the lounge, and the hotel is constantly cosy and welcoming. The garden at the hotel is a large lawn, with a river between it and the hotel itself. To get to it you cross a rickety old bridge, which is a very good place to play Pooh-Sticks.

The town itself is a small country village. There is a viaduct which acts like a large bridge above the main road. On one side of it, is a gorge with a path through its middle. Whatever the weather, the gorge is humid, and in winter, the waterfalls freeze. This is one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen.

My favourite thing about my favourite place though, is the stables. Even though I have my own horse, Boris, I can’t ride him because he’s too small for me, so I ride at the local stables, Cholwell. The stables in London where I ride would never dream of letting me do some of the things I do up on the moor with Cholwell. But I always feel safe, even when I am galloping recklessly on the stables’ naughtiest pony.

Isabella

Chessington World of Adventures by Marsha

My Special Place Is: Chessington World Of Adventures!

By: Marsha

On July 2010 I went to Chessington. It looked soooooooooo cool. I could see a whole world of fun! I couldn’t wait to go on the roller coasters. I caught a glimpse of one of the roller coasters rushing passed; it was Vampire-the newest ride there. Purple and blue, the tracks spiralling around, it was breathtaking. Gasping with excitement I stared around there was another ride but it wasn’t a rollercoaster, it was called Ramses Revenge. It was a huge platform than you sat on and it went back and forth like a swing. Then it span you around very harshly. After that spin you would get water squirted into your face and all over you! It was amazing. There were other rides like Cobra, Dragons Fury and many other rides.

The first ride we were going on was vampire. As we entered the lair of the vampire I heard screams of terrified souls riding the magnificent rollercoaster. Loudly in the lair, there was also an organ being played by something that looked like a mad professor? My friend Khalidah was terrified of him she started crying and ran out of the lair. The rest of us waited for the car to come and it did. It screeched as it stopped and the mad professor laughed. Of course that didn’t scare us. We got in and we were so excited! The noise of the rollercoaster was awkward it sounded like a train. We set off…

Once the ride was over we went on it again and again and again. Afterwards we went on Dragons Fury which was as cool as Vampire but there was no lair. The car for this was orange with fire drawings on it. The beginning of the rollercoaster went up and away. Then it went down.  As we went around the track our car span around it was so cool. You could see trees and bushes. It felt like you were going to fall out into them. The ride was very quick so I wanted to go on it again but one of us didn’t want to so we carried on to the next ride.

Cobra was a boring ride. Basically what happens is everyone sits on this chair and they squeeze you in so you won’t fall out, it made you feel out of breath. Then the platform would go left to right, then faster and farer. It was so boring. It almost put me to sleep. Khalidah found it extra boring! Once the ride was over we had lunch.

After we ate lunch we franticly ran to the next ride which was…Rameses Revenge. The best ride there. There was a very long queue to get unto the gigantic platform but we still went. About 10 of us queued up but some left because they were so amazed and scared. Some people watched us get soaked and scream. We all got on eager for the ride to begin. “Faster harder more water” we all shouted during the ride. We were soaking wet afterwards. “Let’s go again” I shouted. But we were getting ready to leave.

Chessington is the best place for excitement and roller coasters. It is fun and ecstatic.

My Living Room by Irisi

My special place is my living room.

When I think about the memories that drift into my mind, my heart falls asleep and drifts off to Pixie land. One of my favourite memories is when I and my family are full after a tremendous dinner, because we would snuggle up on the sofa, we would hug each other and we would watch movies, funny or sad, together. There are so many memories that I have had, so many, that in fact, I can’t remember them all.

The smells that have drifted into my nose make me relaxed and calm. I have smelt the gorgeous scent of my mother’s cooking laid on the table, the aroma of scented candles, and my favourite one, the freshener that let out Madagascan Vanilla that excite my nostrils. It probably won’t excite you that much, but if you come to my house, you WILL get excited, believe me.

The sights that excite my eyes are the photos of me and my family embracing life together. There are photos of me and my family at Regents Park, having a picnic together, then later on we would take photos of us on the boat, sailing down the river, enjoying the view. Photos of me as a new-born baby, with a little white hat on my head. Photos of my birthday celebrated with a party and a big cake. Photos of all of my family celebrating Christmas and New Year with presents and the presence of each other.

The sounds that have vibrated against my gentle ear are the marvellous, joyous “sounds of laughter and the ‘Clink’ of the glasses after a toast has been raised. The sound of laughter, as we hear the jokes from the Christmas crackers, the sound of the forks being tapped against the plates as everybody east the glorious food. And during the meal, he who dares to have the pleasure, raises his glass, and proposes a toast wishing us “The best start to the New Year” or “ Merry Christmas everyone!” and then I have the delight to hear the ‘Clink’ of the glasses.

I have tasted lots of food around the world, but I wouldn’t even consider comparing them to my mum’s cooking in which I have eaten in the comfort of my own home. Tastes of freshly baked cakes with sugar icing on top, the delicious smell of curry, “crispy on the outside and juicy on the inside” turkey, delicious Russian salad, meats and my favourite, the one that is eaten last of all at Christmas, I give you… the creamiest tiramisu ever eaten, made by my dad.

I would usually put celebrations under memories, but they are so special to me, I feel like they should have their own paragraph in this writing. I can’t even remember the first time me and my family have not celebrated a celebration, no matter how important, in our living room, together. For example, my mothers birthday. The day before, we would go to the flower shop and select a beautiful selection of flowers, then hide them in the car with a pack of profiteroles, then really early in the morning, when my mum is asleep, my dad would sneak out to his car, get the flowers and profiteroles, and place them on the table with my card, oh did I forget to tell you about the card? I and my dad would usually order a card from Moonpig.com. Then, before she would wake up, I would tell her to lie in bed and I would secretly, make her a cup of coffee and bring it to her in bed. Then she would get up blindfolded (by me) and when she opened her eyes, she would see our gifts.  Oh such happy celebrations!

It may seem to you so strange that I would create a paragraph about the way we made it, but to me, a special place begins by choosing the colours together then painting and building it together. So first, we went to B&Q and chose the colours that we wanted, cappuccino brown, and light brown. Then we went home and started to paint it. It was so much fun; we dabbed each other with paint and had the best of fun. Then we went to IKEA and bought the furniture, a couch, a TV, a coffee table and places to put our C-D’s and etc.

I mean, can anybody resist all this?

Can YOU resist all this?

Petit Port, Guernsey by Genevieve

My Special Place

 My special place is Petit Port, a huge beach on Guernsey, the island where my grandparents live. It is accessed by a flight of steep concrete steps built into the side of the cliff; there are about two hundred.  At the top of the steps, the whole main beach is visible, the small side-coves hidden by rocks.

Most of Petit Port is filled with golden sand that begins after a rocky section by the concrete staircase. This sand stretches for about 100 metres. The beach is in the shape of a trapezium, with the widest part by the sea. The sand is fine, and the colour of golden syrup.

Dotted by the edge of the beach, near the sea, huge rocks sit surrounded by rockpools. These rockpools are a deep cobalt blue, sometimes stretching to a metre deep. When the seawater touches them, they ripple and undulate for ages before returning to their usual tranquillity. The rocks themselves tower over you, covered in barnacles and shells. Sometimes they are shaped into little channels by the constantly-moving water.

The sea on Petit Port is a shimmering, aquamarine blue that feeds hungrily on the sand. It stretches out with hardly a ripple on its surface. It’s freezing cold, though- its beauty is only for the eye to experience, as it doesn’t taste too good, either. When the tide is in, it covers all of the sand and comes almost up to the steps.

Sunset is the best time to climb down to Petit Port. The tide is out and the redness of the sun leaks out onto the sand, sea and rocks, turning everything crimson and gold. It was at sunset that I first discovered this beach, as I walked my grandparent’s dog and set him loose on the pristine sand.

My Living Room by Humaira

                                             My special place

My special place is the living room in my house, it’s where I go if I need to escape all the noise and the outside world, it’s where I can stay in peace and think with a clear cool head, and also where I can read without any interruption. The room is always left alone except on any special occasion or if I use it. For some reason it always has this cool cold atmosphere, for as soon as I enter that room the cold air starts attacking me, stabbing at me until at long last I get used to it.

The room also has its own scent surrounding it, a scent that consists of rose and a spice I can’t really put my finger on. But the scent is divine, calming, natural, and just perfect.

I glanced at the beauty surrounding the room, streams of sunlight pouring into the room from outside the windows, reflecting on the glass tables, chairs and the glass cabinet that holds the glass ornaments, most of this room is mostly glass, except the cream coloured walls and the blood red sofas.

The biggest reason this room is special to me is because of the photographs that surrounds the room, a whole bunch of memories, and that is why my special place is my living room.

By Humaira

Chalkwell Beach by Tilly

My special place

The stunning view of my Chalkwell Beach, always makes the corner of my mouth creep up into a slight grin at the first glance. The beauty of the water is so mesmerising. The temptation of the water has lured me in many times , I have previously jumped off a wall into the sea before, wearing my scarlet summer dress, just because of the waves. As I clamber over the wall surrounding the beach there are a dozen beach huts, all different colours. I am sad to say, but we do not own a beach hut of our own, but have often ventured over the top of the others.

 The sand is pale. It is lightly topped with grey pebbles and slimy green seaweed. But last, is the glistening turquoise water that reflects the suns rays over the beach. All I see is calm.

            As the beach is our regular part of the wide stretched land, my head is flooded with cheerful and exuberant memories, though sorrowful memories do come too, no matter how utterly rare they are. Last summer the sun was a blaring concentrated heat that burnt my winter pale skin. One day we had brought a small and discreet picnic to the beach. The sandwiches were cheese, it was slowly melting, and of a lovely supermarket taste. The crisps, well to be totally honest were wet. They were soggy and had a horrible texture. My sister and I were bored of the repulsive food and secretly threw it into the ocean.

            We jumped form the sand and headed into the shining water, beneath us. It chilled us but we still dived in. After being at this beach for such a long time we were simply bored and started to make up songs and dances. We had choreographed our own dance moves for a song called Popular from the musical Wicked. We showed our performance to our family and everyone was in fits of laughter. My mischievous cousin Sam had his new video camera out and videoed our dance. He still has that file and to this day has still not stopped trying to eternally embarrass us, and to the people we least wanted to see it.

            Splash. The waves settle down on the sand with a splash. This is the overpowering sound I hear when I think of the beach. The tough, blowing wind whistles in your ears on a cloudy day. The pebbles grind against my feet as we step onto stones. On a sunny day you could hear the children’s playful giggles from down the beach and the splattering of ice cream to the floor of the beach. The aroma of the hot doughnuts flow down the beach, emmanating to nothing. The strong scent of salt water lingers around my nostrils till I dive into the ocean and the smell of the water is all around me.

This is my beach.

BY TILLY

Dorset by Rosie

My Special Place

The Journey

I have only been to my special place once, but the memory will remain with me always. I discovered it when on holiday in Dorset at Easter. I remember having an argument with my brother, and crossly trudged up a muddy lane, wanting to be alone. My boots squelching satisfyingly in the oozing mud. A whiff of wild garlic made my nose fizz. The trees yawned and swayed above me, creaking like an old man’s ancient limbs. Their leaves whispered reassuringly and let golden sunlight peep through and dance on my shoulder. It tickled my face and hair igniting them with gold, fairy dust. Ferns like green fingers made a frayed curtain over the wild garlic covered banks. I found an interesting mudslide and scrambled eagerly up it. At the top there was a huge gate half swamped in mud and wild flowers. I vaulted it and peeped curiously through a marigold encrusted arch.

Through the arch I found a field. But it was no ordinary field. Daisies, marigolds, buttercups and dandelions littered the grassy, mossy carpet. I was alone. Alone with the azure sky and the sound of chirping birds. It was a wonderful feeling. It was as if I was suddenly free. Free to circle the open sky with the magnificent, dominating hawks above. I sat down on the soft grass that was my cushion and began to weave chains of flowers. I hung the necklaces, bracelets, rings and crowns round my golden head. I sat and dreamed of goodness knows what! I looked around at this heavenly place, never wanting to leave. The view behind me was astounding. Hundreds of fields were sewn together by the hedges decorating their sides. It looked like a patchwork quilt. The tiny tractors and insect people below me teetered about like dolls little imps and fairies from a dolls house! Suddenly it was time to go home. I slowly got up, annoyed at having to leave, but that feeling didn’t last long. I was calmed just by looking at the natural, innocent beauty around me.

I skipped past the lovely little river at the bottom of the derelict farm yard, past the marigolds sleeping lazily by the side of the gravelly path leading to the cute cottage that I was staying. I gave a cheery wave to the cows behind be that were dozing in the field and sleepily munching and chewing on the fresh green grass. In my room as I got ready to go to the local pub with my family after a strenuous game of Monopoly, I gazed out of the old, fantastic feature that was the window. It curved graciously out, leaving a beautiful window seat on which I had placed an old vase I had found in the kitchen. It was filled to the brim with shimmering marigolds, daffodils waving their smart yellow trumpets about and a delicate bouquet of blossom that filled the room with a wonderful, fresh scent. I had found all these pretty flowers in the garden and had produced a gorgeous posy. The double bed I was sleeping on was like the bed in the Princess and the Pea, the only difference being that every night was filled with a comfortable, soft slumber rather than an uncomfortable bruising!

The lane we had to walk down, to get to the pub, was fairly steep. On either side there was a shallow ditch lined and filled with little red stars and forget-me-nots. The pub, I seem to remember, was called The Horse Shoe. Its interior was typical for a pub but welcoming. All the bric-a-brac to do with horses and blacksmiths you could collect lined the ancient walls. The pub had a homely feel and the food was… DELICIOUS! After I had finished dessert which was a scrumptious bread and butter pudding, I couldn’t actually move. How I was going to be able to stumble down that dark lane home I did not know. But somehow I managed it and was soon slipping away to the land where dreams came true, under a mountain of blankets and quilts. I sighed. Aaahhh… and drifted off!

 By Rosie

The Rope Swing and Pool by Maud

My Special Place

The memories of a muddy ramp and stinging nettles take me to Sussex, to a rope swing in an amazing garden. The rope that is as strong as a bull swings greatly from a humongous tree. The tree towers above like a giant, overpowering a colony of ants, the only way to even seem as high as the tree is to swing on the rope! Even though the frayed rope seems untrustworthy, it’s as stable as a column in a castle. The higher you trudge up the squelchy ramp the higher and further you swing. When up there in the clouds your spirit is free to roam and you feel like you are 1000 feet tall. But your incredible time can be spoiled by the stinging nettles. When they attack they bring pain and agony to you.

The pool, the freezing bucket of joy. The place where I go numb with delight. It is caved off by fences and plants and there Sky (our friend’s dog) goes swimming with me. The tiles are all different shades of blue. It’s shape is curved and at the shallow end there are slow descending stairs leading to the bottomless surface. And when the thermometer goes in to test the temperature, when you hear the shrieks of joy you know the temperature is high. But when the grunts of disappointment reach your ears you know it’s bad news, the temperature is low.

The feeling of damp feet and soaking shoes and the sound of a deafening whistle. The green field, as boring it may seem, has memories that are unbelievable. Like the time Sky went outside, in the night and in pitch black, we were standing ankle deep in mud and marshy land. Surprisingly Sky was foraging through the nettles and thorns. After wrenching him out, causing his harness to come off, we had to drag him up the stony path to the comfort and warmth of the bungalow. The neighbouring field houses deer and sometimes cows. Behind the pool there is a forest of apple trees, holding enough apples to feed the five thousand. And down a steep ramp you get to the tennis court. I am not the biggest fan of tennis but my friend and I can pull enjoyment out of the picking of the weeds. They scatter themselves under and over the artificial covering of the ground.                                

My special place may not seem too special but it’s special to me!

                                                Maude

My Garden by Hannah

My Special Place: My Garden…

When, when I look, look back, I find, I recall wonderful memories and images, thoughts of the past, but none as so special as the ones of my garden. My garden is a whole world in itself, like a book that’s never been read but everybody knows the story. And I am going to read you that book, tell you that story, my story.

When I enter the garden, great quantities of colour and light flood my bewildered eyes. I look around at the blossoming flowers; the roses, their pink petals structured beautifully, and the foxglove, quite risky, almost poisonous in their ways. I also see tiny daises, dotted freely on the lush, green grass, and the fresh magnolia tree, in the corner. I wave ‘Hello’ to one of my neighbours as they peer out of one of the archaic windows of the old houses that surround the garden. I live in one of those houses. It’s not the grandest of houses, but it’s home, and it’s nice to be able to visit the garden whenever I want. I visit it almost every day, on my way to school, when I go to the supermarket, any time, whenever I want to. But the best thing is coming home to my garden; however I’m feeling, it raises me up.

Sweet sounds meet my ears when I walk down the rocky path that leads through my garden; the sound of the restless breeze moving the knobbed tree branches back and forth, and the sound of the bumble bee humming merrily to itself. And, as I look, and hear, all the little birds singing harmoniously in the trees, and the mellow shouts of children playing, I think to myself how queer, and also how miserable the world would be without sound. But, but I suppose, some people don’t know what sound is, they cannot hear. They cannot hear the little birds, or the children, oh, how dismal and colourless their life must be!

However, most probably, in the future, in about 200 years, or so, my little garden will be no more. The whole world will be in the ‘Space Age’, and no one will care anymore. They won’t care about the roses, nor the foxglove, or the magnolia tree, or bees, they just won’t care, they’ll just forget. My little garden will die, but the thoughts of it will live on in my mind, in your mind, and in everyone else’s who have read this story. My story.

By Hannah

The Living Room by Eden

My special place

     The Living Room                      by Eden

           

Memories

 I have only been in this house for about 2 years but I have some heart warming memories here too. When we first moved in I remember how lost I felt not knowing where I was ,going into the living room made the house go back down to scale and I felt normal. My mum did up the living room first so when we moved in there would be one cosy room where the whole family could relax. Christmas is normally spent mostly here, where we would open presents and watch my family smile as they opened the presents I have brought and made them. The living room is really what it says in the name. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . A place for living!

Colours

The colours in this room are mainly red white and blue, most of the cushions and sofas are designed by my mum because that is her main job, an upholsterer. The comfy sofa is white and red and has an array of white and red cushions. The main cushion-on the comfy sofa is white and has a union jack flag on the fount of it and it lives by an arm of the sofa. Another sofa is a deep green and is larger than the other sofa; it has a long blood red cushion with weird small patterns on it that you have to look very hard at to even see them. There are various other cushions splashed here and there. My favourite colours in this room are either the deep red and green velvet cushions that lay elegantly on two matching chairs that are either side of the fire place. The other colours in this room that I love are the glass bookshelves that hold sea blue and bright pink a-z‘s and dictionary’s!

Smells

The house normally has an aroma of lavender or rose from my mum’s scented candles that she lights every night so the smell is lingering round the house in the morning. If my mum is cooking a roast on Sunday then the smell creeps up to the living room and you instantly know you’re at home. It is  a relaxing feel to the house that these array of smells give me. I hope to hold on to them forever.

Who is it for?

This room is for my family so share laughter, joy and happiness and where if we have any worries then we put them aside .My brother ,sister ,mum and I all appreciate this room and share so many memories that we just don’t want to let go ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

It is for every one to come together and to share great times, if we invite people round then this is where it is based.

Thoughts

When in this room I think of all the great times I have here, all the fun and sad times we have shared. the colours and smells really make this room my special place, I don’t think any other house will have the smell feel to it but really I think you can really see what families are like through the living room.

This is my special place

                                                 

The Kitchen by Aisha

MY SPECIAL PLACE

M y heart is filled with joy as I open the front door and smell the aroma of baked beans or even fish and chips (my favourite)

You can always feel safe in the kitchen 

Smacking my lips as I take the first bite out of the fish and chips smothered in ketchup

Preoccupied in my food and the lovely smell of fresh fish

Everyday there is something new to unveil in the kitchen

Captivated by the strong flavour of food in my mouth

I can hear my mum singing to JLS on the radio

At the end of the day the thing that counts is what’s in your belly

Licking the ketchup off my fingers in awe

Places to be new sights to see

Lovely food in my tummy

Among the hustle and bustle of my noisy family

Chairs being scraped back

Eat and eat in the kitchen because that’s my special place!

I chose to do an acrostic poem because it’s more clear and interesting and because I like acrostic poems. I think that poems still are descriptive even though they are written in short sentences. Despite the reason that they are short and simple they still capture the essence of a place and catch the reader’s attention.

Burnbake Campsite, Dorset by Aggi

M y special place is Burnbake Campsite in Dorset near the town of Swanage were I go with family and friends every summer for the first two weeks of the holiday.

The first thing I’m going to talk about is the rope swing. There is a stream – quite shallow- that runs around and through the red woods. At the edge of the woods, there is a rope swing that hangs over the river. There are stones in the transparent river, and logs, so that you can climb down to get the rope. It’s an amazing feeling on the rope swing, swinging so high, the wind batting in your face and through your hair. It is one of our highlights, and when we are camping, we go there everyday. If you’re not quick enough then you’re last and you have to wait for a very long time.

Secondly, I’m going to tell you about the sweet shop. The sweet shop doesn’t just sell sweets, it sell other thing like water guns, footballs, tents and pegs. Ice cream too! Everyday we pester our parents for money to buy sweets. My favourite sweets are the one penny sweets, you have a paper bag and you put as many in it as you like. My friends and I go everyday but we always spend our money straight away, we just can’t resist the taste of chewy, fizzy delights.

Another point, which isn’t part of the campsite, but we go there when we go camping. I’m going to talk about the leisure centre. One thing I love about the leisure centre is the smell of chlorine that wafts over you as soon as you enter, it is a wonderful treat that you save for a rainy day, after the luxurious swim in the cold pool, we get changed and go upstairs to get chips and slush puppies or a milkshake from the café.

One of my favourite things is the smell of dew covered plants in the early morning, and the campfire at night. The beautiful trees and bright, bouncy green grass. I love the sound of tweeting birds in the morning, when you first get out of the car after the 4 hour long journey, you can smell the air is cleaner and less polluted, the smell of wet wood, and pollen falling from the swaying trees in the refreshing breeze.