Is this ok writing for a baginner?

It was a chilly December evening, as I was heading home from university. I was tired from a long day, as I walked down the busy road, alight by the cars and people returning from work. It was only six o’clock but at winter the sun set early, and my way soon became dark as the cold night set in. After about ten minutes I had to turn right, ping through a large park to get home. On both sides of my path were occasional lights, but only a few worked, many only flickered as an orange glow illuminated the path for a few seconds. The park benches were empty, and the only sound to be heard was an occasional ruffle of the leaves as a whiff of chilly wind travelled through. There was an eerie but at the same time magical feel to the place. My legs were starting to feel heavy and the fresh air had made me drowsy. I was glad to see I was ping a bench where I could rest for a while. I cleared some dead leaves that settled on the surface and sat down.