Personal Narrative: The Beach

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The soft muffled sounds of a child’s feet running across the floor woke me up that morning. Not a moment later, the door opened to the room followed by my younger sister launching herself onto the bed to wake me. With the door to my room now opened, a rush of aromas filled the room. Soon enough I was dressed and ready for breakfast.After a rushed breakfast filled with many diverse flavors of my grandparents cooking we were out the door prepared for the day ahead of us. My grandfather worked for a wildlife preservation which allowed him to live in a secluded location a short distance from the beach. This made the stretch of the beach we were going to go to be completely private. Not only was it just private but it was completely natural. The scenery wasn’t going to be polluted from the sounds of other people or cars driving down the busy road next to most other beaches. It wasn’t going to have the towering buildings next to the beach instead the dunes that were natural to the beach. Instead of the animals and creatures being the intruders to the city we were the intruders to their habitat. All of this came together making an experience I felt foreign to. …show more content…

This was where the road ended requiring us to walk the rest of the way. My mother and I gathered our supplies that we would need to spend the next few hours at the beach. This was the moment where I got to fully grasp my surroundings. I could now see the distinct line between the Florida forest and the dunes lining the beach. In the distance I could hear the sounds of the water crashing on the beach. Excitement overtook me at this moment but I could only move as fast as I could carry the cooler that felt as if I was carrying a boulder. Traveling down the long and winding path through the dunes the opening finally presented

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