Is this a good piece of descriptive writing?

Answer 1

The crisp summer air filled the local park, the sun burning down, everyone wanted some fresh air-the park was packed. A young couple lounging on the fresh grass having a barbecue, the juicy aroma of sausages floated through the park, making everyone hungry. Across from the couple parked precariously on an old patch of grass was an ancient ice-cream van. The old, decrepit van had been in the family for years, paint peeling, bodywork rusting, the ice-cream van was fit for the dump, but as if transfixed, everyone in the local park was swarming to the van, tired parents, bored teenagers-everyone needed some refreshment. The ice-cream van driver a sweaty OAP, looking worn and fed up, his eyes scanning the crowd,hoping for some refuge from the swarm of impatient customer. Beads of sweat dripping from his forehead, handing out melting ice-creams laden with sprinkles, the summer heat was all too much.

Close to the van was a young mother, struggling to control her two troublesome toddlers fighting with their younger sibling,sitting in a rather worn looking pram. Her oldest child, seemingly unaware, was clicking away on her phone. Baby crying, mother screaming, she was quickly attracting the attention of passers-by. The young mother was trying to explain to her children she had no money for ice-cream. Tired and confused she attempted to calm down her noisy children, stopping to pick up her crying toddler who had just fallen over, whilst trying to make a run for it towards the trees;she narrowly missed being trampled by a passing runner and his personal trainer.

The sweaty, runner, looked nervously around the park, his eyes longingly glancing towards the ice-cream van, licking his lips, wishing he could gulp down an ice-cold can of coke. Rather large in comparison to his personal trainer- a young, fit female. He was finding it hard to keep up, begging her to slow down. Tiredly trying to tug-down his sweat-drenched West Ham t-shirt he came to a stop, collapsing right in the middle of the worn patch of grass, a group of boisterous boys were playing a rowdy game of football.

Out of the usual gang playing football, one boy was already perched on a nearby bench being comforted by his concerned mother, clumsily dabbing anaemic looking antiseptic onto his rather badly grazed knee. Other players were taking a break, sitting on patches of grass licking rapidly melting ice-creams, whilst watching the carnage occuring on the pathetic looking pitch. One over-excited boy lobs the battered ball towards a passing couple, hand in hand the old couple quicken their pace, retreating from the brutal match..

The old couple carry on along the path, leaning on their walking sticks for support. The old lady's dress softly flaps in the wind, exposing her swollen feet clad in thick socks with sandals. Their aged faces crinkling into smiles as they watch the sunset. Their eyes wide through their magnifying-glass shaped spectacles.

The local park is gradually cloaked in datrkness, the park slowly clears, until all you can hear is the gentle laughter ringing from the late night barbecues and midnight strollers.

This is the piece