She is sitting on the beach, alone. Her legs are curled under her, and her hands are feeling the pebbles at her side. They are smooth, like ducks' eggs. They fit snugly into her palm. The kind of pebble David used to kill Goliath, she thinks. She looks out over the sea. It is pewter, it is lead. The waves are bloated and sullen. They clutch at the shore and rasp as they retreat, surly as a kicked cur. The wet shore shines with the slug trail residue of the waves. The cliffs, honey and butter in sunshine, are the grey of gravestones and loneliness. She turns the pebbles over and over, rhythmically, rocking. The wind has turned her long hair into whips which lash her cheeks red and raw. She does not tuck it behind her ears. She does not look at the bag that squats beside her. She thinks back, to the time before. She can't help it. Then, the sun was shining and the beach was innocent.
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"Mom!" The child's voice is high and excited. "Look!" Rosie is holding up a strand of bladder wrack as long as her whole body. It is wrapping itself around her legs and slapping against her plump little tummy encased in its white, poppy-splattered costume. "Great!" says Rosie's Mom. "The mermaid's tail." She is busy fashioning the stones into a face and body: dried seaweed for
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They are coming closer now. Licking and biting at the shore, they have almost reached the body. It lies, a grey, cold smudge. The waves are nibbling at the fingers. Soon they will swallow the whole shape, and the ash will be absorbed by the water and swept out into the ocean, a thousand particles floating apart and away, dissolved. All that will be left tomorrow will be some of the outline in white stones. A mother will come to the beach and show her daughter. They will copy, laughing as they lie like angels and draw their outlines in the sand. Next week, next month the white stones will have gone, scattered back into the thousands already on the
The water was calm, like the morning; both were starting to get ready for the day ahead. The silent water signals that although rough times occurred previously, the new day was a new start for the world. As I went closer to the water, I heard the subtle lapping of the water against the small rocks on the shore. Every sign of nature signals a change in life; no matter how slight, a change is significant. We can learn a lot from nature: whatever happens in the natural world, change comes and starts a new occurrence. I gazed over the water to where the sky met the sea. The body of water seemed to be endless under the clear blue sky. The scope of nature shows endless possibilities. Nature impresses us with the brilliant colors of the sky, the leaves, the water. She keeps us all in our places and warns us when we are careless with her. After all the leaves have fallen from the trees, she will offer us the first snows of the year to coat the earth with a tranquil covering. That will only be after we have recognized the lessons of autumn, the gradual change from warm to cold, rain to snow, summer to winter.
A certain shade of gray washes over the hills. Dull masses of ash, soot and sand drape the ground in soft tides. The young woman lays close-mouthed as does the stillness of sound. She extends her right hand to
One by one, the rocks hit the black bird. “Get away from my mommy, you stupid bird!” Abby exclaims, as she endlessly throws the rocks at the bird. “Shoo you piece of garbage, you no good thie—” “BANG!”
Inhale, exhale. Deep, cleansing breaths that rush through his body like a calming storm. He feels his heart thudding tirelessly against his chest, pressing against his ribs, and rising into his ears. He dips his hands into the soft white powder, rubbing it between his fingers, feeling each grain of chalk disintegrate with the applied pressure and mold into his skin. He reaches out and grabs the rough, sandpaper-like plastic rocks.
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.
“The mermaid swam with her prince toward the beach. She laid him in the fine white sand, taking care to place his head in the warm sunshine far from
As she was walking in the smooth sand where the water met the land, she noticed all the small and big pebbles implanted into the sand. Every now and then she would find a seashell to add to her collection. She then came across this seashell that interested her. It had a hole that was big enough to place your ear in and it was white with brown colored marks on it. Julie put her ear in to find out what she would hear. She heard what sounded like the waves in the ocean. After finding a few more seashells, Julie walked back to where her stuff was at and found her family was still walking around. She then lay down under the umbrella and relaxed her
She splashed and thrashed through the torrential currents among for where she suspected the shore would be. The water pulled and grabbed her legs, carrying her closer to the water fall. Thundering and splashing was all she heard now. The dead silence of night was replaced with the crashing of water against rocks. How she longed to be back where she was before, resting limply on the pice of floating wood.
Around us the air felt colder and the sky had darkened; menacing grey clouds were now moving into view. Just then something caught my eye. There was a disparity in the water, something I found rather unnerving. “Jamie!” I exclaimed, my finger pointing out to sea,” What on earth is
The sea breeze whipped her hair in her face. She stood on a rock above the glistening sea. Bundled in jackets and scarves to shield her from the cold, she sat down to watch the setting sun. The sunset painted brilliant colors across the sky. Pinks and oranges and reds blended across the sky as if it was a blank canvas, that paint was dripping down. The ocean tide slid along the shore and retreated, each time it did so the ocean retreated farther out revealing a lot of sand. It was marvelous to see the hidden treasures beneath the sea. Suddenly a large wave was seen in the distance. A wall of water towering high. She stood up, not sure if she should run or stay. Running sounded best. She hardly had time to think before the towering wave advanced
Suddenly, she heard a loud bang, followed by something heavy falling to the ground. At first, she wanted to stay under so she can stay hidden from whatever is happening on land, but a feeling of concern overcame her. Reluctantly, she swam to the surface and faced towards her friend’s direction. ----------Chapter 3: Triple
CHAPTER FOURTEEN A Sailor's Life for Me Before I saw it, I could smell the brackish sea air. Then I too rounded the corner and spotted the smooth lilac surface of the water. "There's his boat."
Away from the immense sea, white foams from the waves gather gently onto the golden shore. Now, half of a glowing, radiant light looms across the water 's horizon. The sea turns blood-red and darkness creeps up like a thief. The necklace that once reflected its passionate energy of fury moments ago now resembled a mere costume jewellery. Perhaps the loss of the necklace’s elegance and sophistication was the reason to why it was disregarded. Pity the owner did not see the necklace radiating its splendour at its peak. Anyhow, the nightfall creates a sensation of joy and tranquillity in me. Every sight and sound stimulates a sense of composure and serenity; and the effect is heightened by the absence of the noisy bustle of our daily work, only to be exposed to the never-ending music of the waves, and to breathe the fresh air instead of the stale atmosphere of classrooms. It is not easy to describe the effect of this sight; it can only be strangely deciphered in my mind. It is however, a very tangible and distinct emotion, though its allure really depends upon the reality of the world from a further point of view, away from the definite predictabilities of the world, all in which an instant becomes like a translucent drape which almost consents me to catch a glimpse of a ideal and more breath-taking reality. The worldly desires, expectations, worries, schemes, suddenly cease to exist. It is as though all of
I use any excuse to walk along the ocean, especially alone and without my phone. The wind blew cold air, but the sun’s warm rays kept my body at a perfect temperature. It was three in the afternoon and I was calm.