Personal Narrative On The Beach

The sand was so hot. Scorched by the sun. I didn’t know how much more my feet could take. Then came the squishy, dark sand. Almost there. And then, there it was. Water.

I was watching the way the water moves, and makes my feet feel like they’re going closer and closer to the water when waves come up. They roll up onto the sand, and drag some back in, making it swirl around your feet. Sometimes the waves bring something to the sand- like more cockle shells, or seaweed or plastic bottles. Soon, seagulls will swoop down from the sky in search for baby crabs or snails. Kids will come running with leftover crackers or a sandwich from their parents’ coolers. The seagulls will jump around and make a big cluster of white and gray feathers. When

I was walking down the beach with my dad, just ankle deep in the water. The sky was blue with orange, red, yellow, pink, and purple layers over top. The water was dark, but did not fail to reflect the sky like it does in paintings. My dad and I usually collect seashells, and take them home. So as we were walking, sometimes he would stop and pick up seashells. Then I saw one that caught my eye. It was small, and it was blue at the base and gradually changed to purple, then white. I picked it up and dipped it in the water to get the gritty sand out of the grooves. As I ran my fingers over its surface, a wave came and pulled the seashell from my fingers. I started to extend my arm to retrieve the shell, but instead I brought my arm back to my side and stood up. That shell didn’t belong to me. It belonged to the ocean. So I caught up to my dad and we kept walking further and further down the beach, more sand sticking to my feet as we

The high tide was coming in, and it was coming fast. My dad guided me further up to the shore to avoid getting soaked. The waves made a loud crash when they hit the sand, growing taller and taller as the minutes went on, creeping further up the wall of black stacked rocks that now shimmered from the water. When we got back to the post that was our decided landmark to where we had to turn to get back, we left the ocean, trekking up on the what was hot, but now cool, sand. My dad slid the card over the sensor to unlock the hotel door, and we stepped into the room. Cold tile floor, with the sound of the air conditioning- no more waves or salty air. When everyone was settled, I walked towards the big glass sliding door that led out onto the balcony. The air was salty. When I looked over the black railing, I could see the pool underneath with lights that changed the water color- red, orange, yellow, white, blue, purple... but when I looked to my left I could see the ocean. The waves were going up in the air and crashing back onto the