Slowly I Awoke From A Deep Sleep To The Sweet Smell Of

I feel the gentle hot sand beneath my bare feet the tips of shells peek from the holes in the sand. The ocean….. I look over to see Allie sitting in her purple beach chair and i began to walk over across the sand. I haven't been to Willow cove beach since I was 3 when my mom was drinking all night at the beach bar and left me until someone called the cops at 2 in the morning to pick me up. So now I usually go surfing at Clearwater beach instead.

The waves form and break in front of me, the sound of them crashing lingers in my ears . Sitting here at the beach, I feel as if the world was still and I was the only one who existed. My toes dig into the warm, golden sand and the pleasure sweeps over me. The slight breeze is twisting my hair into knots but I don’t care. Without a breeze, the beach wouldn’t be the beach. All I hear is the roaring waves crashing in front of me and the smell of salt and sand in the air. My feet hit the icy water and I know in an instant that the waves would be great but something felt off and peculiar. I jump on my board and dive under a wave. Hearing the stillness underneath the surface was always a comfort for me. Today, though, after all my end of year exams, it feels like a comfort place forever. My arms, pushing through the water, I reach the waiting zone. The roar of the waves is now behind me and the stillness of the water settles beneath me. I watch the waves form, watching other surfers take the waves and enjoy the ride to shore. The many memories I’ve made here are ones that I never forget. Beacon's Beach, for me, is one of those places where everything else in your mind disappears and it’s just you and the ocean. The sun's rays gleamed onto my face bringing heat to my skin, or at least the part which wasn’t covered by rubber. I looked down at my board, a 5ft 4in shortboard from Super, it’s blue and green stripes gleaming in the sun. The wax cutting perfectly where my two feet

I run into the water and tumble into the waves. I feel them strongly hitting against me,I see my sister riding against the rough waves. I taste the salty sea water I got itchy sand all over I stood up just to be knocked back over.

We waited as the waves crashed back and forth on the rocks. As one wave drew back we boldly rushed forward. The lukewarm water slid over our skin and resisted the movement of our legs. Clambering on to the rocks just as the next waves came, we continued on, exploring the dips and cracks of the slippery cliffs. Lost in a world of our own, and confident in our agility as we climbed, it was awhile before we heard the calling of my mother. Was she telling us to turn back? It was hard to tell over the noise of the waves and the distance between us. We were so close we thought. But looking around we realized the tide was rising. The spray of the sea was making the rocks look slick and black despite their rough edges. The way back had just become a lot more dangerous. On top of that, we had to climb up a steep part of rocks to avoid going near the water and getting mercilessly smashed by waves. Looking up at the short jagged cliff, I was not super worried because I have been climbing a manner of things since as long as I remembered. But once on the face of the rock, I realized it was going to be harder than I expected. I hung on, my arms trembling from the weight of my body. I could hear the pounding of the waves

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

At the time I lived in Santa Cruz, California on the east side of town, not too far from the ocean. That morning at 9 a.m we arrived at Pleasure Point, a famous surf spot in Santa Cruz. It was a cold, stormy, windy day. A old school professional surfer friend of ours, “Perry”, offered to teach me to surf on my birthday. I had never really liked being in the ocean unless the water was calm and it was a hot sunny day. Today was very different. The wind was howling and caused the waves to be very choppy. Big black thunderclouds waited above. The waves were much larger than I expected and seeing them my stomach started to turn. Only a few experienced surfers could be seen out in the water. In California the water is much cooler than in Hawaii so you must wear a wetsuit. Even then, after a few hours your feet will go numb and your joints will start to lock up. As a birthday present my dad had just bought me a black O’neill wetsuit with blue accents the day

I stood on the beach, toes touching the water, surfboard in hand. Taking a step into the ocean, I felt the cold water coming up to my ankles. I took a step back out. If I went in alone, the waves might pull me away, or the sharks would get me. But I adored surfing.

The wave grew nearer, and I began to lift off the board. I had completely lifted off as the wave reached the rear of the board. I then reached the sand, still standing on my surfboard. I became ecstatic. My parents, who were watching me, as well as my instructor congratulated me, and were greatly proud. Being able to ride this wave allowed me to become a much better surfer throughout the day.

I headed out to the water after setting up my towel. The shock of the frigid water took my breath away and I was momentarily stunned. However, I quickly recovered; finding my body adjusts rapidly to the cold water. I waded a few feet into it before leaning forward and swimming out. I didn't dare to go too far though, instead turning to swim parallel to the shore. I was comforted by the sounds of the ocean; the rhythmic pounding of the waves represses all of my worries. I looked into the cloudless cerulean blue sky and see the perfection of life. Just when I was starting to get tired and wanted to go back to the shore, I saw something.

My eyes widened as I somehow managed to spin around in the cool sand. I dug my toes underneath as the remaining sand covered the tip of my feet. I relaxed a little, it felt good to be home. The sound of my friend calling my name seemed to fade away as the waves roared over the shore, the low tide in activation. I stood there, waiting where the boardwalk met the sand. The breeze made a sound that comforted me, as it also sent a windy feel to it. I shivered.I tucked a loose strand of my salt-filled hair behind my ear.

As I watch, the waves from the shore look fun and almost innocent as they crest and then crash over one another. I can taste the salt in they air and watch little rainbows glisten through the prisms of the ocean’s spray. The warm ocean water toward the shore is covered with foam and bubbles from the rumbling waves as children and their families play in the gritty tan colored sand. I think to myself, “This is perfect”.

Just as I sit down on the sand my mind starts to unwind. The many spectacular sights jump at my eyes. As far as I can see there is turquoise water in front of me. Surfers wearing their bright colored suits grab their

I woke up from my nap. From that nap I went to school and I was given a challenge. Something that sounds almost impossible, go twelve hours without any electronics unless an emergency. As the assignment was given out. I thought to myself without my phone and tv, how would I go hours being awoke with no electronics devices. So, I brainstormed that entire day.

The sand was a scorching heat, it burned our feet as we eagerly walked down to the ocean shore. Sea oats (tallgrass important to sand dunes and beach plant life) and tiny red and black ants were seen everywhere, covering the sand until we got closer to the sea. Small pieces of bright seashells were scattered all over the place, cutting and poking our feet as we walked around. Cigarette butts and trash from past visitors littered the beautiful sand. The beach was deep, making our feet sink down with every step. Shoes made walking around the sand hard, as they would just get filled with the white sand and make our feet heavier to lift up from the ground. People were everywhere, their brightly colored umbrellas and towels covering the entirety of the beach, adults and kids alike were rushing out into the waves with colorful surfboards and animal floaties. My purple bag chair was sitting just in the right spot for the waves to flow up to my feet and back down again. After awhile, the sand that's being taken in from the soft waves starts sinking the chair legs down. The chair starts leaning forwards, almost completely knocking me into the wet, sticky sand. Brightly colored Seashells come floating up next to me with the crashing waves, where I am low enough to the ground that I can quickly scoop them up before the ocean takes them away again.

Moving inward, steam and the smell of espresso drift from the pot of fresh coffee that has witnessed many breakfasts over the years. Next comes the pale green ceramic platter that holds large stacks of fluffy pancakes slathered in liquid maple sweetness. A delicately woven straw basket contains golden brown toast with oozing butter dripping down each slice like a faucet. Directly in the centre sits the hickory smoked bacon. The quiet sizzle of each crispy piece was music to the family’s ears. This breakfast was a feast for the senses.