I yawned and woke up numb against a gray, mossy rock on a strange, unfamiliar beach. I wondered how long I had slept; my mind was fuzzy, the last remnants of a dream chased away by the realization that I was awake again. It was a nice dream - that was a change from my usual nightmares about my parents - and it was something about sitting in a big, leafy oak tree in a meadow full of yellow flowers with butterflies and birds. The details were fading fast even as I tried to recall them. With an internal sigh, I allowed my brain to focus, and listened to my surroundings. My brain was awake now and I was already worrying. The fiery sun was hot as it rose as if it were a big, yellow balloon in the distance. The soft, white sand glistened as it reflected the sun's rays. Brilliant orange poured out of it and across the horizon, and with the sky being blood red, dawn broke. The sun spilled across the clouds as far as the eye could see. Red sky in the morning - sailors' warning. I looked out at the deep, blue sea; it sparkled as it casually strolled along the shore, leaving the rocks and seashells glinting. The crystal-clear water stretched far into the distance, getting darker and deeper however maintaining serenity effortlessly. The waves were wild horses, …show more content…
He was outstandingly masculine with high cheekbones, and had something in his hand - a glinting sword that reflected the sun's beams. He couldn't have been coming to kill me, as I was already dead, wasn't I? What was his reason for killing me? His blond hair was blowing in the wind, his emerald green eyes looking in my direction. 'Should I get up and run or not?' I decided not to, as I figured I was dead already. I was dead all along, and if I wasn't I wished I was. Being killed by him would make things worthwhile - I would die to seeing the gorgeous, glinting green orbs that stared at me. His black wetsuit clung to him, revealing his perfect body and his washboard muscles. All I could say is,
With every step I took I could smell the fresh air with a slight odor of the salty water. I close my eyes to absorb the gust of the early morning wind slapping me across the face. My hair stood up, dancing from side to side as if it was doing the Tango. I felt the crisp white grainy sand going beneath the spaces of my toes almost feeling exactly like sugar. The subtle waves played the music of nature while crashing onto the shore, hitting my ankles every time with tides that varied in size.
This morning I wake early from the light that creeps underneath my blinds and my bed next to the window. I wake floating on the streams of light, heated, like white wax spilled across the floor, dripping, soft. In bare feet I walk down the stairs, cold on the wood, and find my father in the kitchen, also awake early. Together, we leave the house, the house that my parents built with windows like walls, windows that show the water on either side of the island. We close the door quietly so as not to wake the sleepers. We walk down the pine-needle path, through the arch of trees, the steep wooden steps to the dock nestled in the sea-weed covered rocks. We sit silently on the bench, watch as the fog evaporates from the clear water. The trees and water are a painting in muted colors, silver and grays and greenish blue, hazy white above the trees.
Closer and closer to the calm water, I began sinking deeper in the sand. It was comforting, the silence, tranquility, and warmth of the faint sun. There is a slight breeze, warm, but cold and lonely. I could smell the scent of fish blowing through my hair and body. The sun was still fading, slowly but surely the day was almost over. About half of it is gone now. I could see shades of blue, red, purple, and pinkish-yellow. They were mixed with puffy clouds that lined the beginning of the sky and the end of the water. I noticed the darker shades on the bottom of the lower clouds.
The dull light of the sun somehow manages to kindle my senses in a way I had never seen or felt before. Everything felt like it came to a standstill and the effect of the light made the scene look like one in a painting. The waves break gently into white foam on the black beach. The small crystals in the sand glimmer and twinkle brilliantly against the sunrays. The seagulls ride with the wind and the soft sand cushions my toes.
Peace is found in those who turn to the water for solitude. The line in the distant that never seems to end, filled with orange and pink hues in the early evening, but shining a vibrant blue in the midday. Lots of factors drive people to the water, including Kaito, but his reasoning is different. He could not explain his attraction towards the glimmering water filled with shades of blues and greens and purples, but he could explain his attraction for what lies beneath the surface of the water. There the blues and greens turned to vibrant shades of red, purple, yellows, oranges....
A cloudless starry night from the view of a fishing boat anchored in the middle of a small lake. The moon reflects back off the waters glass like cover occasionally wrinkling with the silent night’s breezes. The buzz of the crickets and night insects from the shoreline dull the frog’s croaks in the dark summer’s air. Two older men sit back and watch light up bobbers drifting in the near distance as fish hungrily pop bugs off the water’s smooth surface from all around. The man in the driver’s seat of the boat looks like he worked in the sun most of his life.
he sea was pale and still on that overcast morning. Not a single trace of sunlight penetrated through the thin dense white clouds, as a thick fog slowly rolled in over the still, silent once bright turquiouse waters. It was silent and flat as glass; gleaming with an almost faint silvery light. The wind was quiet as well. Even the gulls and birds whom flew around early in the morning searching for food were quiet as well.
It was the beginning of summer break. The sun was crisp and warm, and the most popular lake in Nashville, Tennessee had swarms of people there. The water was as fresh as a mint leaf and the sand was like carpet under your feet. It was the hotspot of the summer and everyone was dying to go. Baylee, Lizzy, and Britney were on there way to the lake.
The air around him was sweet with the smell of the pines and the flowers growing around the shore. The sun shown low in the west, and he was thinking to put in to shore, but this was a peaceful lake and there were no others around to disturb him, so he was in little hurry to leave. He just shipped ores and let the boat drift on the glassy water. As the sun went down the sky turned to lavender and peach, and the water mirrored it in perfect reflection.
We traveled a shadowed path; the caravan crawled between folded mountains bridged by a natural limestone overpass. The tapping of gravel ricocheted off the cliff's face, chips of rock and grit broke from its crumbling ceiling—the sun flared beyond the grotto. Lush lowlands rolled a stormy ocean. Mounds of tumbling soil dotted in sparse trees filled the gaps where tides would swell as domed mountains that peaked to clouded heights. The crumpled plains surged with countless veins, water reflecting skies of a perfect blue and quenching the thirst of flowered meadows.
The motion of the soft, almost fully deflated rubber boat on the edge of the the sand filled beach. [GR - doesn’t quite make sense. It needs an edit. Add words] The sound of the birds chirping and the waves hammering against the rocks woke me from a deep mesmerising sleep.
The cold water seeps through the tough outside of my dive booties and surrounds my feet. Looking around, I crunch up the beach, the kayak handle pressed into my palm and curled fingers. Kayak scraping, I pull it up the beach onto the wet, rocky, sandy, shelly, earth. Stepping from the newly beached kayak, I turn my gaze slowly drifting to my brother, who I see is doing the same as I had. Pulling his kayak from the water.
So, the state of the night cleared up, I can continue. I'm looking into the sky and I'm lying on the grass, which is a little strange because grass is not, as it were, the most abundant of materials in this place. I'm lying on a small patch of such grass that is surrounded on all sides by sand. In the distance I can hear the sea and its crashing against the beach and I worry about all the poor little creatures caught in it.
As I walked down the worn dirt path to the ocean, I was astonished by how many people were lounging by the water.. As I got closer to the water’s edge, I contemplated why more people don 't swim and decide to tan in the sun instead. The feeling of being alone with the ocean and my thoughts played in my mind.
His pose screamed power. His broad shoulders held high. His Doc Martens legs astride, he loomed ominously in my face.