discriptive paragraph

(Courtesy of google images)

The wooshing cars streaking by, the acrid smell of diiesel fuel and the putridness of the chicken plant. The sun shining brightley as a small wiffle of a breeze gentley rolls through. The aniquity of the historic dwellings  that the owners constantley bicker over who is the biggest and the best. Yet its not all that bad, on those rare days  you smell the bread dough rising, the sound of the pioneers  fighting their way to the state title, the soft pitter patter of a spring rain. on those days you smile, and begin to think that maybe this town is alright after all.