Descriptive Setting Paragraph
The warm summer breeze pulled open my eyes. It was the dead of night and nobody was stirring except me. I walked over to the large tinted bay window, the source of the warm Venetian breeze. Even though my eyes were still heavy with sleep, I could still make out the wonderful view. The thick, almost swampy, polluted canal had been blue-green In the sunlight but had now turned as black as a crows feathers with nightfall. The boats danced on top of the water.
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The bridge hung over the water just high enough to let boats pass under it. To me the tall, majestic buildings framed my view. The buildings were as unique as kernels of popcorn not one building was identical. Some were as intricate as a butterfly wings while others were as plain as pebbles. I looked up to see that the sleeping sun was awakening, and as I went back to bed I knew this dark view of Venetian canal with it's boats, buildings , and bridges is one I'll never forget.
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