Mark Twain: "When you catch an adjective, kill it. No, I don't mean utterly, but kill most of them -- then the rest will be valuable. They weaken when they are close together. They give strength when they are wide apart. An adjective habit, or a wordy, diffuse, flowery habit, once fastened upon a person, is as hard to get rid of as any other vice."
I will try to write a paragraph minus most of the modifiers.
The gardener trudged across the field. He stooped down and tipped his pitcher, pouring water on a plant. He moved on to the next plant, pouring a cup or two of water on it. The man continued in this manner, occasionally refilling his pitcher from a larger cistern, never losing a drop. The sun beat down. Sweat dripped down his cheeks. The plants drank and clung to life.
The green plasticky pitcher planked with peanut buttery bubbles blasted a biffery bucket, a deep bucket, a tin deep bucket, full of chilly clear water on my tiny toe tiptoeing through sunny sunflowers galore in bowls of vanilla ice cream!
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