Descriptive Paragraph the Second- "The Other Side of the Coin"

Snap.

The sun cast an orange light over all the surroundings, as if someone had put orange plastic wrap over the sky.

Illy lowered his trusty 1.3 Megapixel camera, and looked at the results.

"Not half bad for a camera with less resolution than a cell phone. This one is definitely going up on deviantART."

As he sat atop the hill, he stared at the sunset, and thought.

"Alas, what irony." He let out a deep sigh. It sounded like the echo of a gust of wind, coming from a deep cave. If only they could see him now, not the blood-crazed monster they believed him to be, but a poor, old man, wishing for nothing more than peace, quiet, and the beautiful sunset sky.

From atop the hill, he could see all of Temecula. It was the next best thing to being in one of the city's famous hot air balloons. But it was not Temecula that caught his gaze. To him, it was nothing more than a once beautiful place turned concrete jungle. Yes, the stores were convenient, but by no means visually pleasing.

No, it was not the city that caught his gaze, but the mountains beyond, the stone sentries watching over him at night. From this distance, he could only see their silhouettes, but they were beautiful nonetheless. They almost seemed to be calling to him. Alas, if only he were to climb atop one of those mountains, what wonders might he be able to see? He felt that if he were to climb up in the morning, while dew was still wet on the grass, he may be able to see a sea of mist. Or, at night, he would be able to touch the azure sky, maybe even try to reach out for the shining, silver moon. Oh, the moon. It had rather... hypnotizing qualities. There it lay, shining in the sky. The light it radiated was soft, just barley bright enough to push away the dark, but nowhere near as intense as the blinding sun. The sun was like staring into a searchlight, not a good idea. The moon, on the other hand, was like staring at a candle. You can stare at it for hours until you've lost track of time. Of all the celestial bodies in the sky, he had a special attachment to the moon. So much attachment, that he even went out of his way to procure a Yu-Gi-Oh card named after the Japaneese God of the Moon, Tsukuyomi. (Of course, the card in itself had a lot of strategical value. But, that story is for another time.)

Aaaahhh... nature photography... what a strange hobby for a man like him to have. How did it begin, he wondered? He was never like this before, and yet... the idea was not alien to him either. It felt as if he's been doing it his entire life.

"I suppose, if one wants to be critical," he thought, "It could have started with that horrible fight I had with her. If you put it that way, I guess it was a matter of suggestionability. She was a very... urban kind of girl, for lack of better words, and I kept telling myself she and I were opposites. What is the opposite of the city? Nature, of course. Bloody hell, if that's how this whole thing started, I'm crazier than I thought!" For the umpteenth time in many days, he laughed at his insanity, the way a jackal laughs at the moon. "Ah, you can't blame me, though. I was young and ignorant." How else could it have began, he wondered? He looked around himself, the ocean of dead grass rippling to the wind, a beautiful but depressing sea of brown. Then another possibility came to him. Silent as a mime, his lips formed the words "8th grade retreat."

"Yes, that was it!" He told himself. "One day in heaven, two days in hell!" He laughed. Alas, if only he didn't suddenly develop an allergy to... what exactly was it that he was allergic to there? "No, that's besides the point." He called back his thoughts. His mind was like a little child. Leave it unattended long enough, and it began to wander away until it was completely lost. "Yes, that must have been how it began," he thought. He recalled that it started by taking pictures of... people's shoes... and then something happened. He went near the entrance to the camp, and saw the view. It was breathtaking. Throughout the rest of the trip, he began taking photos. Not of people, but his surroundings. Maybe that is where it began...

Before he knew it, the day grew old, and the night young. He got up, turned around, and began to walk towards his house so that he may retire to his couch.