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. I forced open my eyes from the blinding light because of the sun shining down on my face. I took a look around me to see where I was, all I could see was an abandoned beach of nothingness. I began shouting at the top of my voice ‘Hello, is anyone here!’. [GR - speech should be on a separate line, as so…] “Hello!” I shouted anxiously, “Is anyone here?” There was no one replying only the sound of the birds tweeting and the trees rustling from the winds moving and also hearing …show more content…
It was becoming so dark that I could almost not see anymore [GR - needs re-ordering to make sense. Read this whole sentence 1. Too long and 2. A lot could be reworded] and I was shivering from how cold I had become from the wind and the sun had gone away, I went to find some sticks for firewood. I whittled a stick down to create a fire starter and then built a pile of sticks to make the structure of the fire. Finally I got the fire lit after what felt like an endless amount of tries to get even a little spark. [GR - great sentence, until that last part, which definitely needs rewording.] The fire began to grow bigger and bigger as I was blowing into the bottom of the pile to enlarge the flame. I soon started to warm up from the heat of the flame. I started to become very hungry and really needed to find something to fill my stomach, looking around I thought I'd never find anything at all to eat but finally I stumbled across a bunch of guava plants which was like a miracle to find. I cut open the fruit and when I took a bite I felt like it was the first bite of any type of food in so long, the juices oozed out of the fruit as I took each
After unpacking our belongings, we began to gather wood outside to heat the cabin. There were no creature comforts that came with the cabin; everything had to be manually powered, except for the light bulbs. In order to make the place warm we had to put more wood in the fire place and kindle it so that it wouldn’t die out. It was laborious, but it also intrigued me because of it’s the recreation of heating the home during primitive times. It felt like I traveled back to the time of the old American pioneers who settled this land where they used wood to heat their homes.
The spark of a dream, suppressed for so long, was stoked by my shuddering breath of realization. Releasing the air slowly, a fire caught inside me, blazing and burning and begging for release. I concede to the flames.
The mother pondered over each place with such scrutiny, and the son sighed, “Why don’t we just go to Hawaii? At least they have a beach to cool off when it’s hot.” He was forced to stay in the scorching room with his mother to decide on their next vacation. Couldn’t he be able to play while his mother searched for a place? He just sat there for the past hour in silence, after all.
The sun is beating down on the water with immense heat, bringing its temperature higher and higher every hour. I can see bass jumping left and right from the shore. My father and I decide to launch the boat around mid-day. It takes ten minutes to get the boat uncovered and ready to launch. We finally get the boat in the water and set off to our favorite spots. These spots are usually the stumps in the middle, or the shallow areas near the back of the lake where there is a lot of cover. The dull hum of the electric motor is all the noise you can hear as the boat glides along in the bath water. The wake of the boat and the breeze in the air are the only disturbances on the surface of the water. I feel the sweat drip down the side of my face and the back of my neck turning red as the sun glares at me.
There were soft noises—sweet, like quiet steps against gravel; soft like the sound sand makes as the breeze pushes it back a little. Natural sounds were all around me, and they were thinking too. I got chills, and they were not from the wind. The soft sounds reminded me of fall and how coloured leaves silently fall to their slow death. The sounds reminded me of peace.
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.
I had decided to be open minded about this adventure I was being taken on as my weariness depreciated and my mother seemed to grow upset since I had looked like I was not enjoying her company. As we approached the seashore, to my surprise my mood had been uplifted. Smiling was inevitable and my heart was warm with bliss as we slowly walked over the tiny grains of sand, occasionally stopping to examine a unique shell that demanded to be seen. Each shell had different textures, varying from a roughness comparable to sandpaper or smooth like fuzzy peaches and with different shades of grey and white. Only the extraordinary shells would be picked up and placed into the bright red cup we brought.
His eyes re-focused onto the unfiltered light at the end of the barrel, he turned his head toward the face of the wave, his reflection rippling across the flow. He saw the sadness in his eyes, not for the fact the ride was almost over, but he felt something so unexplainable, something more than just sadness swell inside him. It was needed. But before he could illiterate on his thoughts, he felt the morning air, ice against his wet skin, and his focus returned to his footing, bending his knees one last time, he leaned slightly inward, sending the board upward toward the Crest of the wave. He took one last glance at the curve of
In the lonely clouds of the atmosphere was a desperate man in a balloon airship,alone was he with his loneliness he went through the world finding scraps to survive the world's end by which he did but at the cost of being alone did he fly.... Pilot woke up to a scattered beam of mellow gold shining through the cracked porthole in his window. Disgruntled he got up and stepped onto the platform that had simply a sidebar outline with two levers and a captain's wheel. He pulled out his telescope and scanned the sea of gold clouds moving at a hastily slow pace and decided to go east for the lacklustering glory of this dead sea. He pulled hard on the wheel jackknifing it to the east from what he could tell.
I looked upward towards the midnight colored sky at the bright specks of light that seem to organize themselves into what we call constellations. The talking and laughing of my mom and brother are what pull my gaze from the beautiful night sky towards the bright crackling campfire and the smell of the smoky wood that is being slowly eaten by the flames. The sweet smell of the marshmallows roasting and the warmth of the blazing fire beacon me towards it as it is a cold fall night. The wind rustles the leaves of the trees and the smell of pine meets my nose as the wind pulls the leaves off of the trees nearby. I sit in the folding chair set up near the fire and I reach out letting the flames warm my cold hands.
A sunburn was inventible in this heat. The rays of the sun were beaming on my legs and face, and it felt like I was sitting in an oven. I still attempted to prevent a sunburn by layering gallons of sunscreen on my body and face. I let a bottle of water down my throat and it was refreshing just like after a taking a shower. The sand was as soft as cotton but also hot like a burning stove. The water was blue as you looked farther into the water. Despite the heat, it was a beautiful day.
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 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.
There were could of birds tweeting with sorrow, bees had stop buzzing and the butterflies where nowhere to be seen. All I could hear and feel was the gusty wind whistles through the
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.