Trees Descriptive Essay

Trees. Hundreds of them. No, thousands. I have never seen so many trees. It reminds me of those drives down a highway where all you see are hills of rocks and trees on the side of the road. Except I’m not going to my aunts house. I am in a rainforest. There are wide trees with leaves that stretched out and over like umbrellas for tiny creatures. There are trees with leaves that spread like giant green feathers. The tallest trees are the thin ones with narrow trunks that seem like they defy gravity and should topple over any second just from the weight of its leaves. Every now and then, I can see the bright red flowers. They are few and far between, just barely peeking out from the clusters of greenery as if rubies in the dirt.
I hear the overly enthusiastic voice of the tour guide mention something about the history of the forest and I’m brought back to the prickly seat of the bus and the chill of the air vent next to me. The bus swerves on the dark dirt road and I catch a glimpse over the cliff we ride on, my heart stopping in its tracks. The tour guide continues switching between lengthy factoids and brief, casual conversations with the people in the first few rows. I watch my sister’s fall onto my dad’s lap as she commences her pre-walk power nap. I look back outside as just as the bas stops and I lurch forward in my seat. Everyone unloads, many groups looking like proper tourists with cameras swinging on their necks, tan fishing hats, and bright burnt noses. I hopped