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Descriptive beach essay
Descriptive beach essay
Descriptive writing of beach
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The sun had just peaked above the horizon, as the waves crashed at my feet. I sat alone on the beach of the beautiful Dominican waters. The wind was gusting ever so softly that it almost tickled the back of my neck. I admired the calm flow of the leaves on the palm trees that I never have been able to gaze upon. I sunk my feet into the cold, yet smooth sand. As it caressed my feet, I felt a calmness come over me. As I took in the beauty around me the waves began to grow more ferocious. The roaring waves exploded against the surface tension of the still water. They began to rise to heights of ten to twelve feet. I had never seen Mother Nature so violent and so peaceful at the same time. The tranquility of the calm breeze overwhelmed my body,
As I took another stride towards the Caribbean Sea, the hot, fine, white sand snuck in between my toes. The break of the turquoise ocean crashed and the warm salty water splashed on my recently sunscreened legs causing pellets of water to slide down my slick shins. I stepped into the ocean and goosebumps ran up my body. The gentle waves and delicate tide surrounded me. I slipped under and let the salty water cover me, and the only sounds I could hear was the faint chatter of my family who was above the surface, and the slight movement of the everlasting ocean.
It was a very cool day, overcast with a drip of rain here and there. Waves were vicious, water was as cold as the arctic, and my weak body was always being compared to a pencil. I began my swim as I attempted to avert the waves but, I seemed impossible. They kept pushing me back, yelling at me to go back to the beach, today is not your day. The waves, they swept me away with ease. I was a squirrel in a dog's mouth, a ragdoll, being tossed every which way. Tossed off balance underwater, I was baffled. My lungs whimpered for air, my body slowly drifting away. The aspect was blackening, the whole world spinning in circles, then, I felt weightless…
The smell of the restaurants faded and the new, refreshing aroma of the sea salt in the air took over. The sun’s warmth on my skin and the constant breeze was a familiar feeling that I loved every single time we came to the beach. I remember the first time we came to the beach. I was only nine years old. The white sand amazed me because it looked like a wavy blanket of snow, but was misleading because it was scorching hot. The water shone green like an emerald, it was content. By this I mean that the waves were weak enough to stand through as they rushed over me. There was no sense of fear of being drug out to sea like a shipwrecked sailor. Knowing all this now I knew exactly how to approach the beach. Wear my sandals as long as I could and lay spread out my towel without hesitation. Then I’d jump in the water to coat myself in a moist protective layer before returning to my now slightly less hot towel. In the water it was a completely different world. While trying to avoid the occasional passing jellyfish, it was an experience of
Stepping onto the white sand, I feel the intense heat and humidity in the air. The vivid heat from the golden sun rays warm my entire body. Salty perspiration is running down my red face, and I am awaiting the moment in which I will run into the cool, refreshing waters of the ocean. I can smell the zestiness of the salt in the air. Glistening waves crash against the shell-covered shoreline, creating an intricate pattern in the dark, wet sand.
as I gaily walk down the shoreline of the Outer Banks. My all time favorite
The large mountains surrounding Anchorage collect a substantial amount of snow. During the Summer when the snow thaws, the water in the creeks start flowing once again. This is because of the Hydrologic Cycle, through condensation and evaporation, precipitation takes place, therefore causing runoff into creeks and streams. Due to this continuous pattern of melting and freezing, the stream that I am studying is perennial. My stream reach was located upstream from Eastchester between a bridge and a large, silver culvert.
The sun shines. The thin glistens in the footlights. The wind swirls nearby me, disconcerting eroticism sand unfitting my feet. I pile up the tide, frightening the calm bathe as I pork out. The thin surrounds me, engulfing me in its enthusiasm.
I just got home from the vet, except this time I came home without my best friend. I pull my legs underneath me as I sit down on the edge of my bed. Through the large windows across from me, it’s overcast, and the puffy grey clouds grow darker over the ocean. The water stirs as the wind coaxes the waves to grow bigger. The swells build as they move closer to shore. Watching the waves crash on the beach and draw back out, over and over again is meditation. Memories of taking Dakota down to play on the beach come to mind; he loved going down to romp in the waves and chase seagulls ever since he was a puppy. If he hadn’t gotten sick, he would still be out in his favorite place.
A sense of uneasiness invaded me the instant the ability to stand left me. No longer was I within a quick swim back to shore. Although this realization worried me, I continued to follow behind my dad. With no real destination in mind, we swam around and gazed at the multitude of peculiar creatures and colorful plant life that inhibited various rocks below us.
The distinct scent of dead seaweed also known as the “beach smell”, filled my lungs, the saltiness in the air making a burning sensation in the back of my hoarse throat. Frigid gusts of air pierce through my flesh like a sharp knife, the hair on my skin standing on end like needles fighting against the fabric of my clothing. Dry eyes from all the wind and tears, I gazed off into the endless deep blue ocean and the cumulus hanging above, like a damaged cotton blanket that still managed to shield the bitter waters from the sun’s fiery light. A light downpour made distant objects hazy and you could see the specks of water droplets, falling to the earth in a slanted manner as the wind thrusts them slightly to the right and creating the therapeutic sound of rainfall accompanied by an
I draw the zip slowly down, and warm light floods the small tent. The day is brilliant, all bright hot sand, the deep tropic green jungle, and the mysterious turbulence of the ocean, crashing down, forming, destroying, and re-forming the beach. Emerging from the tent, I leave behind all my possessions, the measly little collection that it is, mostly tools and fishing gear, and depart into the paradise of the waterfront. The set of the morning rolls in, beating the rocky outcrops, just as they do every morning. Turning my back on the headland I begin the daily ritual of my morning, unchanging as the beach itself, though far paling in age.
A cool breeze rolls off the water-- the kind of breeze that causes the hair to rise on a person’s skin. It tastes fresh and clean. The stifling air filling the surrounding city is thick and heavy, and thus creates a stark contrast past the line of trees along the sand. The great glowing orb of the night pierces the darkness with its light.
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.
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.
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.