Coral Reef Descriptive Writing

The Keys The sun was centered high in the aqua blue sky surrounded by beautiful, puffy, humidified, white clouds. The ocean a glorified glittering teal blue, and under the righteous sparkling Marathon Florida Keys Beach a coral reef, dead barren gray coral reef, tragically ruined by the many people who carelessly stepped on it. I was snorkeling, trying to find a conch shell, a gigantic one. Earlier that day a local, who kept lugging out these humongous conch shells out of the same glittering teal water I was swimming in, told me the secret to finding one of those gigantic hundred-year- old conch shells. She told me the secret to finding the huge shells was to not look for the entire shell just the tiny, pointy, tippy, tops, so I did.

Forgetting the weariness of my now tingling legs, I dove into the water. The feeling of completion raced through me, replacing my feeling of frustration from just seconds before, as I dug farther into the sand. After being under the water only a few seconds, my lungs felt like exploding in my beating chest as I resurfaced. I quickly gulped in some fresh, cool, seaside air as I looked around for my dad. That’s when I saw trouble. A big cloud of seaweed sat about eleven feet away just taunting me to get the conch shell out before it swallowed up the area shells where the shells rested, and then crashed up onto the beach . “Dad” I screamed, “ I need help.” My dad came swimming over, from about seventy-five meters away, with his entire strength cutting through the water like a knife stopping in front of

Then I disappeared again under the now choppy aqua water. My dad dove under as well seeing me digging he starting to help me dig out what I though was one shell. The water became so murky after digging for only a few seconds, I had to resurface again to clear my eyes and to gulp in the fresh air, only to see that the green seaweed monster was getting closer every time a wave rolled in. Our time was limited. I descended back under into the murky depths, my dad resurfacing for a gulp of new oxygen for his lungs. Everything tired my digging became scooping as I watched the shell emerge from the sand. I pulled at the shell as the sand gave way to its suction like grip. That’s when I saw it… a second shell. I kicked my way to the surface holding the enormous conch shell with an iron grip. My dad had already succeeded back down into the murky ocean depths, I raced to the shore and up onto the beach steering clear of the seaweed. I ran my shell to the area of beach my family had claimed and hid my conch shell under a beach towel. I raced back into the water to help my dad dig out any other possible shells hidden beneath the choppy sea. The green sea of seaweed was getting really close to the “dig site” as I dove back under the choppy sea to help my dad. Only to see him emerge holding another hundred-year-old conch shell. We both raced back