Descriptive Essay On Panama Beach

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.

When the snow began to melt and the warming in the air began, I knew spring was coming. The cool breeze that came off the remaining snow left a crisp feel in the month of March. Spring break had finally come, and my step-mom and my father had planned a vacation to the beautiful Gulf Shores in Alabama. My level of excitement was overwhelming to go on this trip, not just because I was lucky to miss one day of school while returning home, but because I genuinely love the beach! Notwithstanding that I had never been to the Gulf of Mexico before, I pondered to myself if it would be more different than that of a beach on the Pacific Coast.

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

Strolling down a beaten dirt trail with green mossy trees on either side. A soft breeze brushes a kiss against my cheek, as it pushes past, earth mixing with sea salt hits my nose. Soon the faint sound of waves kissing the shore, children’s laughter, and seagulls screeching calls to me. Walking along the winding dirt trail until the texture beneath my toes change. The trees part and on either side the trees rise into the air, becoming cliffs as far as my eyes can see. Instead of dirt beneath my feet it has been replaced by sand in between my toes. I walk towards the white cap waves where the water washes up against my ankles excitedly and then pulls back with remorse. Sea mist leaves a moist kiss against my cheeks and then

Here lies the area where the rising blue sea crashes on to a shore surrounded by huge, wave-worn rocks. Where the sun shines through the skies and radiates the skin of inhabitants who are admiring the beauty of nature. The limestone shoreline fights back by pushing the water back out and creating a enormous splash accompanied by the effect of ocean spray. Some people come here to go snorkeling and explore a whole new world underneath the water, while others come to enjoy the scenic views and are accompanied by loved ones to walk down the vast amount of nature trails. However to me, this is a place where I am allowed to ponder and be away from the noisiness of city life. At Blow Rocks Preserve Beach, I walk along the beach and am instanly relieved

Ocean water mist kissed my face gently as I walked along the shore of Isle de Padre in Seal Beach, California. Soft and grainy sand slipped between my toes, which was an odd sensation, but not unpleasant. The sun wasn’t shining and the wind began to pick up, causing my braids to whip around my face in a frenzied manner. I loved it. In the spring of my thirteenth year, I made I trip I will never forget. This trip made me feel alive, and as long as I live, I will always associate Isle de Padre with life.

The beach in Wildwood is nothing short of paradise. Placed among a bright blue sky with wispy white clouds, the sun lights up and warms everything. Seagulls soar in the air, cawing every so often. Light winds carry the scent of saltwater, earth, and sunscreen. Silty, off-white sand stretches on for miles in either direction, dotted by people. Tanners lie on bright beach towels. Children run, laugh, build sandcastles, and dig moats along the shore. Families and friends gather under multicolored umbrellas on folding chairs. Conversations mix with the sound of the ocean. The cool water creates an endless blue pool, speckled with people. White tips among the sea mark the crest of waves. They curl over and crash onto the shore, sounding like a million

It’s midday in June and the sun is at its peak, bathing the entire Yucatan peninsula in its warm yellow glow. The waves lap the shore of the resorts rhythmically, and the squawking tourists flock to the sandy beaches, hoping to eat up every last bit of the glorious sunlight. I pull out my phone and look on Google Maps; Michael and I make up a tiny pinpoint on the 26-mile coast, slowly working its way up towards the tip of the island, Zona Hotelera. We’ve been walking for almost 20 minutes, passing resort after resort and countless numbers of tourists, motivated by no more than boredom and possibly a hint of curiosity. I’m not quite sure what we’re looking for on the beach, hell, I’m not even sure why I’m in Cancun in the first place! What exactly was I looking for by coming here? Perhaps the fiasco that I called my senior year combined with my desperation to leave it all behind led me to embark on this international trip. I scan the open horizon and search as if I could find answers there. Yet I’m met with nothing more than a blinding reflection of the sun off the water. It’s hard to look away, with the mesmerizing rays of sunlight dancing off the tranquil ocean waves. It was hard to look away on that other day too.

The sea was like a rippling blanket of jewelled blue. I gazed out around me, taking in the panorama of breathtaking views, from the silk-like sky to the horizon, a line of nickel silver. I watched the water lap gently at the edge of the yacht, hypnotising me. I pulled on my flippers, adjusted my snorkel and fell backwards into the the depths of the tropical sea.

I sat up and stared at the horizon, cherishing the never-ending deep blue water touching the enormous orange ball in the far west.  As the sun was setting, I notice the tiny shadows of the seashells forming and the fast growing waves overcome each seashell with strong force.  When I looked up at the sky, I admired the transformation a fluffy clouds turning into light feather outlines and I watched the screaming seagulls fly across the ocean, in front of the gleaming sun.  The roaring of the waves smashing on the shore was like a warning that if we wanted to stay dry, we had to move away from the shore We did not leave the site of the beach until the purple, orange and yellow sunset hit the horizon.  I felt the warmth of the sun against my skin like a baby blanket straight out of the

The ocean strokes land with calm and reassuring hands, lacing water with sand and lifting seashells in its wake. My heart urges me forward, to walk among the peace, to capture the sweet smell of sea salt. My brain reasons with the rest of my body. Turning sharply from the churning water I force my feet to leave the warm imprint they have grown to love

When I first stepped out of the hot, stuffy plane into the bright and brilliant sunlight beaming down on my face, all I felt was excitement. With my bag in one hand and sunglasses in the other I couldn’t believe it I finally arrived at Florida! The Florida sun struck like an arrow on my skin, warming and basking my arms in its radiance. I took a deep breath and smelt a sweet flowery perfume. After pushing my way through all the tourists I finally reached my luggage. After pulling my purple bag of the conveyer belt, I made my way to the doors where my family and I were met by my aunt, uncle, and cousins to pick us up and take us back to their house.

Seagulls soared delicately over my head and the race of the waves upon the shore had made it clear that it was the perfect summer day in California. Various kites of contrasting colors and shapes flew overhead as they danced with the wind. In its essence, the exquisite body of the abysmal, salty water glistened to its heart’s content. My mom, my sister, and many of the many friends of my mother’s were enjoying a pleasant stroll in the cool breeze. T-shirts, shorts, sunglasses, and vibrant colored swimming suits were what filled the San Diego beach as a common apparel.

My brother, mom and dad and my dog and I hopped in the car to drive to the beach. This one specific beach was very close only about 10 minutes away. As we drove up there is a large paved car spot that curves into a T. A large sign welcoming us sits in the middle. Around a group of large pieces of driftwood a Pelican sits atop one of them. In the distance there is a patch of sand, sodden with water, broken sea shells are scattered about probably from gulls dropping them. Next to them are the tide pools many sea creatures live in them, red rock crabs scamper about. A mysterious collection of these creature a occasional clam pops up spraying as if enjoying himself in the sun. Surrounding a large Ominous lake hidden with it’s secrets of people who had visited every year people throw pebbles into the lake and wish for something anything their deepest desires.

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.