Where am I?
Summertime is here. The cicadas are chirping and I can hear the Grey River flowing behind me. My brothers whining about not catching any eels, but their voices are drowned out by the sound of my dog barking at some sheep in a neighboring paddock. The lush, green grass below me cushions me as I doze off. The Paparoa mountains look awesome in the sparkling sun rays. It’s perfect.
The cold winter air chills me to the bone accompanied by the harsh West Coast winds. The once spongy, green grass is now rock, hard dirt. The digger struggles to start up and the engine makes a funny spluttering sound. The gravel feels like ice and the cold Barber devours me. I wrap my jacket around me tighter and tighter. The digger starts up and a loud rumble takes over the yard.
By Sammi
Year 8
