7.30am, I seem to be here earlier then usual, as I left my house this morning I can see the leaves turning brown,autumn has begun. As I sat on the bus I stared blankly out of the window watching my Breath condensate abed it and watch droplets race down like the 100m sprint of the Olympic Games. I enjoy silence, but as the ever looming loudness of school children filling the bus came upon me I plugged my earphones in and continued looking out of the window.
Finally the end of my bus journey had arrived, I exited the bus and proceeded along the trail of a brown woodland area filling my nostrils with the scent of outdoors. As I took a breath cold air-filled my lungs which sent a shiver down my spine. I continued along my trail embracing the green and brown contrast of grass and leaf and the elderly walking their small delicate dogs dressed in novelty dogs clothing.
The campus gates, tall iron bars connect one brick wall to another which encompasses the entire school ground. The school itself is an old Victorian style building which is surrounded by the season ground or the play ground as more commonly known. I call it the season ground as when a season arrives it’s the first place I notice to change and while it’s changing specifics of each season shines through with vibrancy. During this season, autumn, the leaves start to change colour and trees start to spread their seeds, and as winter comes along you can see trees start to save nutrients and bushes start to die and this gives the garden a cold feel and brings the bite out of winter, as spring rolls through the trees and bushes start to come alive, trees begin to sprout leaves and bushes re grow and we also get the flowers blossoming and the garden looks somewhat mesmerizing.
As i entered the front door i was greeted by an older student he said “hello sir” and held a faint smile along with it, i replied with a mere nod and a smile. As i continued to walk down the corridor there was not a soul in sight, the corridors were eerily quite which caused ominous intonations to echo through out. Here we are now in my class room, and while you read this the redolent of my coffee fills the room as i stare blankly out of the window.

 

As a student the most challenging part of my day would probably be waking up, its a daily chore but it has to be done, i drag myself out of bed and lay on the fluffed up carpet as the cat brushes against my head. i put on my clothes and shoes and head for the door with my old cranky bike, i shout to my mum “Bye I love you” shes replies identically and i am on my way.

I always tend to get to school fairly early, around 7:30am, I don’t know what it is but I love the fresh breeze blowing on my face in the early hours of the morning, as I ride my bike my bag flaps across my back like a flag on a pole flailing in the wind. I love going fast head down, narrolly missing cars, with music shattering my ear drums while I look at the same beautiful girl walking down the high street. And then school. The big iron gates  and walls as if it’s a prison, what a horrid place, boring trees and boring shrub. I enter the building, the quite corridor only brings mischief, I make my way thorough the corridor about to draw on lockers and walls as such when I see him, grey hair with a , melencolly look on his face, I give a faint smile and added a “Hello sir” just for the irony. “Only one year left” I tell myself.