Shooting Star Savanna:

Thin:

Twenty feet in front of me all I can see is a sea of green with glimmers of blue. There is an abundance of tall trees with many green leaves on the tree’s branches. Some of the trees have leaves with three sharp corners; other trees have leaves with eight rounded tips. The taller trees have thicker branches. At the top of the trees the branches point upwards, while the branches on the bottom half of the trees hang down. There are several thin trees with a few scraggly leaves. The bench we are sitting on is rounded, stone, light brown and about ten feet across in diameter. In the center of the bench the grass is brown, it is not standing up. Dirt can be seen under the thin grass. The grass on the other side of the bench savanna is a lighter shade of green then the trees and stands erect. The only flowers in the savanna are a bright yellow. Some stand as tall as five feet, while others barely stand a foot tall. The flowers and tree branches sway slowly. The forest looks like it can go on forever, but there seems to be a steep hill about fifty feet away. About five feet in front of me there is a five foot area with wood on the ground that is a black color and there appears to be some ash.

Thick:

The savanna is so filled with trees that I can only see little bits of crystal blue sky through the branches. The taller trees are thicker because they are older and the rings inside a stump of a tree can tell one how old a tree is. The tree branches at the top point upwards; they are reaching towards the sun because it provides them with energy. The branches sway slightly; today the windy city isn’t living up to its name. The hard stone bench encircles grass that is brown and dying because of people trampling it. Still some of the grass attempts to rise and live; its desire for life is contagious. As I lift up my foot up to turn three pieces of grass get pulled out by my sandal. Does this hurt? The forest looks it can go on for an eternity but I know that just behind the trees are mansions. I also know that there is a ravine about fifty feet away, because I have almost fallen down the narrow valley while exploring it in the darkness. The black wood in front of me brings up happy memories of bonfires in the summertime, and I am almost certain that some one was having a bonfire in the savanna. To me this seems like a dangerous idea, but the wood sleeps peacefully on the grass.