The Tunnel

     On the way to my grandfather’s house, there is a tunnel which always gives me an ineffable feeling of magic. Every time our family go to visit my grandfather, we have to drive through it. When I was little, I used to think that this tunnel would lead me to the other world which was completely different from the one we lived in. The tunnel was long, dark and deep. In front of the entrance, grass grew disorderly along two sides of the road. When our car passed, the weeds sway gently with the wind like they were waving friendly to me. Inside the tunnel, the air was heavy and moist with the smell of rotting wood. As our car kept pulling away, the tunnel wall behind us would swallow up where we had been, but the road in front of us seemed endless. My father kept driving, and I could hear nothing but the wind humming. The time seemed to be frozen in the tunnel. At that moment, I felt as if I were infinite.
     Now I have grown up. I realize that there is no new world on the other side of the tunnel, nor can the time stop. However, I still believe that this tunnel must have something to do with magic. While our car was driving through it, I like to roll down the side window of the car, letting the gentle breeze whisper past my ears. It always gives me a peaceful calm whenever I do this.

The Tunnel

On the way to my grandfather’s house, there is a tunnel which always gives me an ineffable (lovely poetic word but a little lush for here perhaps) feeling of magic. Every time/Whenever our family go/goes (have to work out whether the family is singular collective or plural! not so easy) to visit my grandfather, we have to drive through it. When I was little, I used to think that this tunnel would lead me to the other/another world which was/would be completely different from the one we lived in. The tunnel was long, dark and deep. In front of the entrance, grass grew disorderly along two  both (there are no more than two) sides of the road. When/As our car passed by, the weeds swayed (stick with the past tense) gently with the wind like they were waving friendly to me. Inside the tunnel, the air was heavy and moist with the smell of rotting wood. As our car kept pulling away,? (ok, you want a word suggesting effort for a car?  I cannot think of one haha) the tunnel wall behind us would swallow up where we had been, but the road in front of us seemed endless. My father kept driving, and I could hear nothing but the wind humming. The Time seemed to be frozen in the tunnel. At that moment, I felt as if I were infinite.
Now I have grown up. I realize that there is no new world on the other side of the tunnel, nor can the time stop/stand still. However, I still believe that this tunnel must have something to do with magic. While our car was driving through it, I liked to roll wind down the side window of the car, as we drove through, letting the gentle breeze whisper past my ears. It always gives (here you may use present tense) me a feeling of peaceful/peace and calm whenever ('it always' and 'whenever' don't need to put together) I do this.

Outstanding!