The last thing I remembered was smoke. We had been engaged with an enemy fighter when their was a loud bang and a bright flash. The cabin filled with smoke almost instantly and I felt as if my lungs were filling with water. Every breath felt like i had a heavy weight on my chest. I felt myself getting dizzy, like the whole plain was spinning out of control. I felt myself fall to the ground as I fought for air and my eyesight started going blurry till it faded into nothing but blackness.
The smell of sea salt was strong in the air. The faint sound of waves crashing against rocks rolled in and out from the distance. I felt grains of sand, that felt like coals against my body and the cool breeze against my face. The bright light shined off the
The film Smoke Signals, screen written by Sherman Alexie, examines the small, ordinary Native American life of a boy that lives on the Coeur d’Alene Indian reservation with family problems. The story is set in 1998 but also has flashbacks throughout the lives of Thomas Builds-the-Fire and Victor Joseph. Both Victor and Thomas must go on a trip to take care of Victor’s father’s business since he has passed away. Victor and Thomas both must be saved from situations throughout the film. In the film, the theme of salvation preserves both Victor and Thomas from death and conserve Victor from living a life of hatred toward his father and others around him, which allows him to understand why his life is filled with pain due to his father’s actions.
The cool water felt very refreshing on a warm spring day; however, anything over 50 degrees felt warm to our family who had traveled from the icy Idaho weather. My dad and we five kids waded out to where the water reached my belly button. My mom stayed on the beach. Those of us in the water splashed each other, at moments sucking in some of the salt water. To me, it tasted as if someone had poured gallons of table
When the day came to leave I was woken at the crack of dawn. I was keen to get to Blackpool as swiftly as possible, not only for the football that was ahead of us but also for the famous Pleasure Beach. The coach picked us up at around 8 am and in we crammed into an already full coach. The journey down was full of laughter and friendly joking from the parents. That day, it was particularly hot and inside the coach a number of people were becoming uncomfortable. I was unaffected by the warmth inside the coach, with my earphones in I relaxed and paid more attention to the vast countryside we were passing through. The vivid scenery blew me away, with colossal hills to calm rivers that we met on the journey.
Recently, in Mr. Hutchins 9th grade honors literary composition class, we watched the film Smoke Signals. Based on popular author, Sherman Alexie’s book Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven the movie stars, eccentric, awkward Thomas-builds-the-fire (Evan Adams) and fiery, aggressive Victor Joseph (Adam Beach), who embark on a road trip out of their Idaho reservation to Phoenix, Arizona to retrieve Victor’s father’s ashes (Gary Farmer). There, a friend and neighbor of Arnold, named Suzy Song (Irene Bedard) greets them. Not only does Victor find and retrieve his father’s ashes, but he finds himself in the process.
The foamy wavelets curled up to her white feet and coiled like serpents about her ankles. She walked out. The water was chill but she walked on. The water was deep, but she lifted her white body and reached out with a long, sweeping stroke. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace.
The King was dead. Those four words shook me to my very core and made feel like a could collapse where I stood from the mere shock of the words. I gazed around and stared at the hectic city street all around me while eying the people who carried on through their day, unaware of the travesty that would affect all of they're lives as they knew it.
WHAT IT IS - I trawled for a steakhouse along the dusky 46th street filled with snarling dogs hiding in the distance. Within a few steps into the street, the glow from the restaurant façade gave radiance to the darkness. A big recessed entrance with spotlighted signage could capture my interest and felt a growing curiosity how the food inside would taste like. This meat specialist seems quite ready to join the steak battle among the meat hunters in town. They apparently serve imported meat without hefty price tags.
I turned off the car and took a deep breath. Looking slowly up into the pink sky, I began to watch the golden sun go to sleep. The beach seemed deserted, quiet, but peaceful. I opened my door and put my feet out on the soft sand. I started taking my shoes off, then my socks. I threw them in the passenger seat, and then shut the door. I looked out over horizon of the lake and started walking towards the still water. With each step I took, I could feel the warm sand crunch between my toes. Then suddenly, a sharp rock, but not sharp enough to break the skin.
The waves roll onto white sand beaches and vanishes into non-existence, and another is born and tumbles towards the shore. The setting sun dyes the western sky bright red. People are laughing, talking, and embracing under sunset. I can feel that the warm sand is squished through my toes. The weather is nice. There is not a speck of cloud to be seen in the sky. The sky seems a watercolor painting, mixing red, blue, purple, and etc. I sometimes perceive the foamy mist from ocean sprays my face very lightly as if it is the touch of a soft feather. Through various sounds, I can hear the cry of seagulls circling overhead, and gives the part of Santa Monica beach fascinating character of its own. As time passes, I senses the fresh and gentle breeze. When I close my eyes, then I have the feeling of I sitting alone on the broad sandy beach for a moment. I open my eyes again. The colors swirl together in muddled mass over the sky. The sky turns into blue violet, and the scenery around me is added colorful artificial light. lIt is the most beautiful sight I think and my favorite time. The children frolicking on the
I can still remember the first time that I saw the ocean. I was a child, no more than 6 years old. It still stands out in my mind as one of the best memories I have from my childhood. I remember being able to taste the salt in the air on my lips as I took a deep breath. The water was such a deep shade of blue that reminded me of a Crayola crayon color. It got lighter and lighter as the water came closer to the shore until it ended as a light turquoise color. The color of the water when it actually met the sand was something that I can’t even describe. I would say that the closest thing you could describe it to would be translucent sea foam green. I remember how the waves curled up at their peak and then crashed down into the sand. The noise that the waves made as they crashed into the surrounding water can only be likened to the deep booming of a bass drum. The temperature of the water as it swirled around my ankles was not too cold and not too hot. The water was so clean and clear that you could see the ocean floor beneath your feet. Once in a while a huge chunk of seaweed would get wrapped around my toes and it reminded me much of a legendary sea monster swallowing its victim. The sun bounced off of the water’s surface, glimmering like a shiny crystal. Perhaps ...
All I could feel was rugged sand all over my body and in my mouth. Land, we had washed ashore! Then I remembered fully what had happened last night. I began to look for Tom. "Tom, Tom, Where are you!!" There was no sign of him anywhere. Then I saw the footprints in the sand.
This lukewarm water was deceiving though, because it only seemed lukewarm due to the drop in temperature and misty rainfall. The waves were rushing toward me like a bull to a matador’s red flag. My mouth tasted as if someone dumped a whole shaker of salt on my tongue. The wave pushed my further and faster as it I could feel the wave breaking on my body and there I was back at the shallows again floating in with the white wash and was ready for another wave. As I stood back up and ran back out to the deep water I saw one of my surfing mates catch the most perfect barrel it was rad. It would have been a great snap shot. I caught another wave, this one was even bigger. The thrust of the wave was twisting my body and I was pulled towards the sea
Around noon, the winds began to pick up. Hoping to gain a little more speed, I hoisted my sails. All was fine until a few moments later. The sky turned dark, rendering day into night. All around me, there was silence, except for the occasional howl of the wind. The sea and the sky blended as one; the whole area turned into night and clouds concealed the sun. The winds steadily grew stronger. Fumbling in the darkness, I searched for my torchlight, accidentally knocking over something.
While walking by the shore I was amazed by the soft smooth sand beneath my feet, it seemed like all the worries I had throughout the year were finally erased. There was a rock facing the ocean that it thought was really cool, so I decided to settle there for a moment to appreciate the view, I closed my eyes for a second letting myself comforted by the sounds of the ocean, the sounds the waves were making against the rocks was impressive. Spending a few more minutes on the rock I decided to go back. Tying to help my parents for making breakfast, they sent me and my brother to get bread, and a few croissants at the bakery. My brother was driving while I was still wondering the landscape, I thought it was interesting how this island contained a mix between mountains, and beaches. At the table, conversations were spontaneous and positives, I forgot how fun breakfast could be when spending with family. That day we had has a plan to go to the beach, my mom could guess what me and my father had in mind. It was scuba diving and hunting with harpoons, but before we had to first buy the necessary equipment, and study the fishes we could hunt, since some were protected, and review the fishes that were edible. Finally done with preparation we headed to the beach, me and my dad waited that day for so long, being a big fan of hunting, I was quite impressed by the number of variety the Mediterranean Sea could provide, also what really shocked
The scent of the ocean assaulted my nostrils as I had walked passed it. The palm