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 Let Me Show
You Nature
creating a "showing" paragraph
about a natural object
The writing of author Patricia MacLachlan is inspiring student writers to try new techniques with the traits of word choice and sentence fluency.
Your students can self-publish their writing done with this lesson by clicking here.
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Additional Student Samples Being Sought:
Grades 3, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12
WritingFix is currently seeking additional student samples from this writing assignment that can be featured in this space. Submitted student work must show evidence of revision, editing, and the final draft must be typed and sent through e-mail. Teachers: if you can help us obtain one, two or three student samples, along with a digital photo of the student(s) and a signed permission slips, we will send you either a complimentary copy of one of the Northern Nevada Writing Project's print publications.
Write to us at publish@writingfix.com and write "Sarah, Plain and Tall" in your e-mail's subject line, if you have a student sample to share with us.
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Student Samples: Elementary
 The Forgotten Waterfall
by Calvin, fourth grade writer
Through hundreds of decaying saplings lies a magnificent waterfall. A waterfall that has not seen life for one-hundred years. It looked down at the world stretching out before its aged eyes. The waterfall feels imprisoned in the center of the deserted rocky mountains. Its after-spray feels like leopards claws. Besides the waterfall, the only sound within one hundred kilometers is the snapping of dead branches. It holds memories of children swinging on ropes. The remains of rock-skipping days lay sunken to the bottom. The waterfall, forgotten or not, is thirsty for more.
(Click here to open/print Calvin and three of his classmates' natural descriptions.)
Student Sample: Middle School
 The Forgotten Creek
by Samantha, seventh grade writer
Through a maze of snapped twigs and kicked rocks, past an abundance of decaying bushes that hug one another like a family of grizzlies, lies a lone thirsty creek that holds memories. Grains of sand lie in weary puddles that once were mighty lakes--the dead remains of rock-skipping summer days.
The only sound that can be heard is the pleading cry of bugs as they inch across the dry plain, wanting water, wanting life. Clumps of trees frame the open sky, letting the tired light draw pictures in the dirt with its gentle, aged fingers. Children once played here.
When their days of hide-and-seek and rope swings were tucked away into the back of their young souls as they spread their wings to take flight into life, the lively river faded. For when childhood is lost, the magic of their secret creek dies with it.
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