Fall, like Fall

This is an essay I did for school. It's for college admissions and was hoping to get some feedback!
Thank you!
-Sophie

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1. Fall, like Fall

 

“The greatest thing by far is to be a master of metaphor. It is the one thing that cannot be learned from others; and it is also a sign of genius, since a good metaphor implies an intuitive perception of similarity in dissimilar.” – Aristotle   The season changing from summer to fall is one of my favorite times of the year. The wind rustles through the browning leaves, the cider mill begin to serve hot cider, and I get to wear sweaters. You can never spend enough time outside during this change, if you look away for ten minutes the entire landscape could change. More leaves would fall, leaving the trees above looking barren. The wind would move entire piles of these golden gifts.    My room is bright, with splashes of many different colors. I designed it so it was exactly how I wanted it to be. The bedspread has a white base. It is puffed and keeps me cool in summer, and warm in winter. I could swear it has magic abilities. Scattered over the surface are swirl-like flowers of all different colors. Green flowers are the largest, followed by pink, then onto navy and purple. Three walls are white, and occupy very different things, a true teenage girl’s bedroom. One wall is two large closet doors; the other is stretched across by a decal. It is a dandelion, which appears to grow out of the large window, with its seeds drifting across the wall and onto the back wall. The back wall is painted navy, matching some of the flowers. The final wall is called ‘Memory Lane’. Different antique picture frames hold different stages of my life. One devoted to my childhood, another to accomplishments and achievements, and a final frame for my friends. Around them are different posters of brands and my favorite music. It’s what I look at before going to sleep, reminding me of the past adventures.    Outside, the seasons changing are much like my room. A meld of color and texture brought together by force. They didn’t attract that way, and they didn’t choose to be in my bedroom. The seasons didn’t want to be changed; they are forced by the Earth to move on. The flowers their brightest when they first emerge and the dullest as temperatures fall. In the morning my room is brightest, as the day goes on, the sun moves to the opposite side of the house, leaving my room in cool darkness.    But I sit in my room sometimes, my room where it is always the change from summer to fall. Outside, it smells as if it has just rained. It is the familiar smell of dirt and leaves twisting through the air and breezes. My room has these same breezes, breaking through the soft slivers around my window pane. It mixes with the smell of American Eagle perfume and shampoo, creating my own mixture of my favorite things.  My bedroom is like the change in season, and the change in season is like my room. Different aspects all tied together in the same space, much like the seasons are tied together on Earth.     
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