Descriptive Essay On A Dreamy Island

When thinking about getting away to some serene paradise to help forget about work or school obligations most people instantly think of the beach. Whether it be the west or east coast the beach is a universal symbol of peace and serenity, plus a little bit of fun. But this bliss has a whole different meaning to me. This is where I grew up and how I found myself. The west coast of Florida is the first time I felt the sand in my toes and the salt water on my face. These memories inspired me to give back to the ocean and its inhabitants and follow my dreams of becoming a marine biologist.

I walked out onto the still white sand of fort Myers Beach and inhaled the peaceful air. The sand twisted around in between my toes as I was walking towards the calm ocean. I looked back and can see the beautiful palm trees sway in a relaxed, controlled way. The sun shone off the ocean just enough to make the water sparkle. I heard the quiet voices of the tourists that were sprawled out in the sand soaking in the easeful beam of the sun. I laid my towel on the sand and spread myself on it. My skin absorbed the rays just enough to make me feel warm. It was heavenly to spend time and laze in the sun. It was like the world was full of peace. At that very instant I felt stress free. I sipped my ice cold water and felt the chill of water travel

Even though I was worried when we arrived here, I could still recognise that this island was beautiful. There were crystal waters and tropical palms. Sand that crunched beneath your feet and coral that decorated the ocean floor. Looks can be very deceiving though, Auntie. It didn’t stay beautiful for long and ever since we landed, I was praying that we would be rescued.

A ticket to anywhere would be extremely nice. I would want a ticket to the glorious state of Hawaii. I am always hearing of how vivid and vibrant the place is. From the oceans, to the volcanoes, and the rituals, it all seems very interesting and fun. The weather is always good, warm and sometimes a small breeze. There are so many cultures on the island as well.

It was a sunny Friday afternoon when I decided to take my observations with me out into the world. This day happened on my spring break, in the beginning of April, my senior year. As I walked upon the beach the salty, floating breeze of Panama City was enough to make my knees go weak. I looked into the clear blue sky and saw the perfection of life. I took a moment to gaze about what nature has offered to me. Everything on this beach has its own unique feel and it has its own way of making you feel calm and relaxed.

If you were forced to pick your paradise, where do you think your thoughts would take you? Would you go to the quaint wooden cabin in Michigan that has been in the family for years? Or would you think of your cozy apartment a top a skyscraper in your favorite concrete jungle? Without a second thought, my mind rushes to Pawley’s Island, South Carolina. As locals describe it best, the “elegantly shabby” beachside town 40 minutes from Charleston has been my chosen vacation spot since childhood. Between the hammock shops, crabbing in the creeks and ghost stories, there is always something to entertain you on the island. With only the best memories there, never did I think that there would be something to hold me back from indulging in the lazy

When people plan to attend Hawaii they think of beautiful beaches, great exotic food, and the smell of wonderful flowers never before smelt. That is exactly what they get, from turquoise blue water to skyscraping palm trees Hawaii has so many exotic things to see. Also all the great smells of Hawaii from the wild fruit to the roasted pig on the beach Hawaii definitely brings to mind one thing happiness. In Hawaii there are many things that bring happiness to mind such as the extravagant smells, not to mention the beautiful sights, and most of all the spectacular taste in the exquisite food they have in Hawaii.

There is no other place I feel more at ease than at Kiawah Island. I have been going to this summer getaway every since I was a baby, and my love for this little island off the coast of South Carolina will never fade. When we roll up the driveway of 90 Jackstay Court, I feel a surge of elation, as I know I will be spending the next week with my family, cousins, and grandparents. I run my hands across the granite countertops where I can already smell the intoxicating aromas of a home cooked meal. First thing in the morning, my cousin and I grab our sand battered bikes, and start pedalling on the boardwalk to the beach. I’m careful on the narrow wooden platform, with the painful reminder of when I fell off into the brush. We hop off our bikes

In this week’s narrative essay I will write about my experience as a child while visiting Sanibel Island, Florida. During the discovery process, I drew from my memory to create a list of topics relevant to the subject matter. My personal discovery process usually begins in the morning with coffee when I brainstorm the subject matter. I include my ideas in a word document, everything that comes to mind and naturally it’s out of logical order. Freewriting and some questioning are also utilized as I further consider both the subject matter and the audience who will eventually read my essay.

After traveling for 3-hours, my family arrived at our beach house in Ocean City Maryland. After making a quick trip for groceries, we decided to go to bed and set alarm clocks for early in the morning. After a good nights sleep, I woke up to the pleasant smell of bacon and eggs. After feasting on a delightful breakfast, my brothers and I began to get ready for the beach. We went down the creaky wooden stairs of our beach house and unlocked the storage room located beneath the home. I decided to carry both of the floral umbrellas while my brothers took the portable beach chairs. After grabbing all of our gear, we headed back up the weathered stairs and towards the distant sand dunes. As we approached the entrance of the sand dunes, the satisfying sounds of the ocean's waves started to become closer and closer. Once we traveled closer, the vivid orange sun began to ascend from the deep sea. At this early point in the morning, the sand walkway enclosed by

Traveling two thousand two hundred miles seemed like a stretch to many, but not to me. One brisk morning I jumped off the catamaran and ventured onto the most mesmerizing place I had ever encountered in my fifteen years of life. It was spring, two thousand and fourteen when I came to know Catalina Island, California. Everything seemed like it was in slow motion coming ashore. It isn’t enough for me to say I just saw Catalina Island, I felt everything that it had to offer. As I crossed over the pier I looked down and saw a school of fish fifteen feet below the crystal clear surface. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. They were rich in color and exuberant in their movement. I could imagine how unconsciously free

Myrtle Beach is boogie boarding with Daddy and digging holes to China with my sunburnt cousins, embarking on shark tooth hunts with my older brother and competing in sandcastle building contests with my little sister. Myrtle Beach is lazy Mondays and Sundays and every day in between spent splashing in the surf and Mommy always warning me to re-apply Coppertone unless I wanted to transform into "a walking, talking lobster, missy." Myrtle Beach is jolting upright in bed and scampering downstairs, two steps at a time, with a breakfast smorgasbord awaiting me on my grandparents' kitchen counter. Myrtle Beach is gazing up awestruck as fireworks set the Fourth of July sky ablaze for miles and miles down the Grand Strand and knowing wholeheartedly that regardless of what anybody might say, there is magic on this earth because this moment—these seconds spent along the shoreline with those who are my world—what else could that possibly be, if not magic?

My vacation to South Padre Island Beach was memorable. There were so many amazing sights and smells. I remember as we grew closer to the beach I could hear the splashing roars of the waves as they rushed to the shore. I can still taste the salty sea air as I walked down to the beach, the seagulls flying above me squawking at everyone below. Kids building sand castles and playing in the water as parents sat, watching them nearby. As I stood in the warm, vanilla colored sand of the beach, I felt a calm peace, as the cool ocean breeze blew around me. Later, while I was walking down the coast, cool water splashing on my feet, I could smell the zesty aroma of a nearby barbeque taking place as families enjoyed the glowing sunset as the day came

When I close my eyes and imagine, I can still clearly hear the gentle splash of the waves lapping the shoreline, and feel the slight ocean breeze whizz through my hair, sending it flying in every direction. During the frigid and dreary months of Missouri’s winter, there is one place in particular that my heart longs to be. Marco Island, Florida. When most people think of a luxurious vacation, they imagine crystal clear water, snowy white sands, and a miraculous five star hotel. Marco Island is no Bora Bora, but to me it’s the most enchanting small town that values simplicity and offers pure bliss to anyone coming to visit.

My parents and I happily trudged out of our chilled condo room, weighed down by various beach supplies. We made our way to the elevator, slowly but surely exiting the maze we call our condo hallways. As we glided down, floor after floor, we finally reached the parking garage. We stepped out of the elevator feeling a mix of humidity and heat immediately cling to our tan bodies. We exited the garage to find a beautiful scene. Birds were flying overhead as there were sun rays beating down against white, hot sand. We crossed the bridge that held shoes and scattered shells. After we did so, we pressed our feet against the white sand that belonged to Destin, Florida. The sight was even more alluring than I had ever imagined.