Instant Access To 100,000+ Essays!

The green carpet of grass rolled on as far as I could see. A magical aura surrounded me as I walked gently over the perfectly manicured turf. This beautiful landscape is the home of the Masters golf tournament. Workers scurried around the course, inspecting for anything out of place. Dad and I glanced around trying to find a fault but to no avail. I reached down to the ground to confirm that it was real grass. “How is it possible for it to be this perfect?” I had to ask. I looked to Dad for the answer, only to see his shoulders shrug in uncertainty. No weed was in sight on the grass, nor a misplaced grass clipping; however, the scent of freshly-cut grass wandered in the air. Each blade of grass was precisely cut to the same length. I saw neither a grain of sand that had gone astray from its bunker nor any debris in the smooth fairways. The smooth fairways led my eyes to the perfectly maintained sand-bunkers. It was as if God himself had used a cookie-cutter to form them. The bright white sand contrasted perfectly with the emerald green grass. “Dad, can we come play golf here?”