What Are The Five Senses Of Ocean Water

They are so consumed with their struggle against the waves they do not even have the time to notice something as simple as the color of the sky. From the very beginning the reader is filled with the suspense that each individual character feels. Despite the crews struggle with Mother Nature, they are continually struck by the fierce waves. With each passing wave the reader is lead to believe that this one will surely be the one that capsizes the little dingy. “As the salty wall of water approached, it shut all else from the view of the men in the boat, and was not difficult to imagine that this particular wave was the final outburst of the ocean (256).” Crane creates suspense between the reader and the characters that allow both to feel the relentlessness of nature’s indifference of their struggled attempts to survive. It seems that no matter how hard the crew works to keep the dingy from capsizing “… the waves continued their old impetuous swooping at the dingy, and the little craft, no longer underway struggled woundily over them (259).” The narrator describes the waves as acting carefree and rather impulsive as if they had no obligation to the men for their survival. Nature does not care that this crew of men were working to survive, but nor does it mean to cause the men any harm. The waves are merely there, doing as nature intends the waves

The poem I will be analysing today is Song of the Surf by Dan Ashlin. Ashlin is a born and bred Australian poet who writes modern poems. I believe that I have a strong connection with this poem because of how much I personally love the beach with the soft sand and the ferocious waves. In my opinion this poem isn’t just about the waves in the ocean, but how the ocean has its own life and story to tell.

Black, white, and gray is the foam of a crashed wave along a California beach. While the birds-eye-view of the shoot gives us a portion of the beached tide a line of white foam dangles from the bottom of the top border. There the homecoming of the beached wave is met with a wall of resistance from a smaller salty surge. Meanwhile, the water retreats back to its endless body as it curls around protrusions of shell and rock. Mid photo, water spreads itself out on the dry sand making it stained with darker gray and soggy. At the bottom a dark shadow casts itself parallel to the bottom border.

The tide was coming in and there was only a narrow strip of firm beach between the water and the white, stumbling stuff near the palm terrace. Ralph chose the firm strip as a path because he needed to think, and only here could he allow his feet to move without having to watch them. Suddenly, pacing by the water, he was overcome with astonishment. He found himself understanding the wearisomeness of this life, where every path was an improvisation and a considerable part of one 's waking life was spent watching one 's feet. He stopped, facing the strip; and remembering that first enthusiastic exploration as though it were part of a brighter childhood, he smiled jeeringly. He turned then and walked back toward the platform with the sun in his face. The time had come for the assembly and as he walked into the concealing splendors of the sunlight he went carefully over the points of his speech. There must be no mistake about this assembly, no chasing imaginary. . . .

White’s use of descriptive diction creates a pastel painting of the lake and summer. White describes his summers as never-ending and unforgettable. White clings to his ignorance of the passage of time with the “fade-proof lake” and “unshatterable” woods. White instills a sense of nostalgia and reminiscence into his audience through his powerful descriptive

The reflection of the shimmery water shining against the blurry background faces of the community’s people. They huddled around the scene like penguins wanting warmth from each other. They cling together like glue between a kindergarteners fingers, completely mesmerised by what lay floating in silence in the glistening water.

•The sight of the Atlantic ocean captivates the attention of the boys and, for a little while, allows them to forget their in the middle of a war. The shore is strange to them so they take the time to explore and enjoy it.

My sister and I ran into the water, splashing and falling as we ran on the pebbles that carpeted the bottom of the lake. It was usually noon, the sun high in the sky creating diamond shimmers on the lake currents. After a day, the sun had already began to color in our cheeks with shades of red and scattering freckles under my

The waves seem to be growing in size and strength as the tips of the waves turn white. The waves seem to have the fisherman’s vessel tipped towards the top against the sea. The fog that gives the illusion of growth due to the fact they appear to climb in two particular spots. All of these elements work together to create rhythm, however without the fierce waves these elements would create an entirely different meaning. If the fisherman did not face the task of enduring the ferocious waves to arrive at the large vessel, accomplishing the task of reaching the vessel would therefore not seem quite as

I breathe in the warm air as I gaze out at my beautiful home. So wide I’m not even certain I’ve seen all it’s beauty that lies beneath. I can see the shadows of tiny fish swimming above the soft sand. They are so small they look as though they are microscopic. I reach down and run my hands through the wet substance that is so thick that my muscles grow tired the deeper my hand goes. As I lift my hand up, the sand makes a cloud of powder, slowly drifting through the water. The waters are so calm as though nothing could anger them. Each wave slowly rocking back and forth to the rhythm of the sea. I lower my fins beneath the water and a coolness rushes through me as I feel the cold, wet water. The soft breeze brushes against my skin with the scent of an indescribable satisfaction. Hours passed as the warmth of the sun seemed to just soak into my skin and relax my mind.

The narrator begins this story stating, “None of them knew the color of the sky” (338). He refers to the cook, the correspondent, the captain, and the oiler, the main characters. This quote means that all of them are focused on fighting for survival, paying all of their attention to the waves. They fight against the waves, trying to stay alive. However, the author states, “A singular disadvantage of the sea lies in the fact that after successfully surmounting one wave you discover that there is another behind it just as important and just as nervously anxious to do something effective in the way of swamping boats” (339). The waves are a symbol of the uncaring nature; it does not matter how hard the protagonists try to fight against the waves because nature continues its course; the waves continue to flow. However, the characters are determined to stay alive. They continue to face this external conflict that is nature, even when they realize that nature is

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

This image is similar to the one created in “Dover Beach – A Note” by Archibald MacLeish, who also used the crashing waves as a metaphor for the passing generations. In particular, Thomas is referring to ‘the last wave’ of good men, who believe that they could have accomplished more if they lived longer. However, Thomas provides reassures in this metaphor as after one wave, comes another, presumably with more good men. Additionally, Thomas uses the metaphor of ‘green bay’ to stand for life, as this is where the waves come from. Green especially is associated with life and youth. Moreover, the use of the words ‘bright’ and ‘danced’ to describe what the men’s ‘frail deeds’ could have been creates a contrast to show why men might rally against ‘the dying of the light’; who wants their deeds to be frail when they could be bright and

The appearance of Dover Beach at this time is only of what the human senses can envision. The speakers looks beneath the surface of Dover Beach and unveils the true nature of the sea. When Arnold stops to really listen to the sea, “he only hears the sea’s melancholy, long, withdrawing roar.” (9). Arnold justifies the theory that things are not always what they appear to be. The world only ‘seems’ to be beautiful, but is ‘really’ a place of conflict, chaos and dangerous misunderstandings.

To the left of me, I see an older couple, books in hand, enjoying the relaxing evening under their bright, multicolor striped beach umbrella and green folding chairs that have palm trees sewn on the back. The man leans over and soon enough the lady begins to laugh at what he has said. Further down I can see a boy in blue and white striped swim trunks and his dog playing fetch near the shore. The dog is brown with a mix of white around his back. Each time the boy throws the bouncy blue ball, the dog is more and more eager to retrieve it for his owner. After a few throws, the next one goes farther than the others, causing the dog to dive into the water. He seems to enjoy the way the cool water feels on his fur