Descriptive Writing About Beach Day

Acadia breaths a deep sigh of relief as the frigid clutch winter relents to the lush brilliance of summer. The vivid vision displays a feeling of the wild strength of nature and a peaceful calm without the encroachment of humanity. The cove shelters a collection of smooth pebbles and boulders, which, replace any sand. Towards a creek breaching the treeline sits a old log that bears the scars of driftwood and the grey color of death. It contrasts the deep lush greenery of ferns and evergreen, along with the rich tumult of blues and greens coloring the waves. The organic shape of the wood glides towards it’s weathered root, which look like nothing more that little sticks breaking the smooth appearance. The grain of the wood is lightly pitted,

We got up early on a Sunday, which was already turning out to be a hot morning. Our goal was to spend the entire day at the boardwalk and beach. So I’m thinking, “there is plenty enough time for a surf lesson.”

All while the lifeguards watch over everything: the swimmers in the crashing waves, the tanners on the soft burning sand and the adventurers traversing the jagged rocks. Many groups of teenage friends are scattered around the beach. Some of them talking, some enjoying the pleasant afternoon sun. More groups arrive on the beach as others leave, all of them enjoying the pleasant scent of the ocean in the beginnings of a great

“Isn’t it?” Lucy said. They both walked into the ocean. Suddenly, Harper awakened. Mary, Lucy, Dylan, and a few of her other friends were gathered around her. There was a wet cloth on her forehead. She was laying down inside, on a bench.

Almost 2,000 miles away from home, I lay on the sand an hour boat ride away from the nearest town with the taste of peanut butter and jelly sandwich still lingering. Made almost 6 hours before, the jelly had seeped most of the way through the white bread, leaving a soggy replica of the original sandwich. It had traveled next to me for hours, eventually making it to the island of Culebreta, PR. The warmth and time seemed to have amplified the flavors, the grape jelly almost cloyingly sweet. The taste added to the heaviness of the air, which hadn’t been disturbed with a breeze for hours.

The next day Jim inspected the hot tub. The boards underneath were rotten. The radio had been stolen. The headrests were long gone too. But all he could see were the many nights in the very near future that he would be enjoying his “new” hot tub.

Swimming pool with its AstroTurf, “love umbrella’, deck chairs recreates the dream world of a beach – even if it’s all artificial and unreal, like any dream - Never the less it’s a wonderful dream and we get pulled in. Let’s have a dip, of course not in these clothes - It’s a license to get undressed. After all we are here for a swim, and see the abundance of blood red lipsticks and saxophone solo in the background.

So there I was, looking over the horizon from that pristine Puerto Rican beach. I could smell the salt water, feel the sand slipping between my toes, and hear the ocean beckoning for me. I swear that I could just sit there admiring the view all day long, but I had better things to do than daydream the morning away. I slipped off my sand-covered sandals, took off my shirt, and headed into the clear, blue water. As I waded deeper into the surf, I couldn’t help but notice the mesmerizing patterns of the waves: the way they formed ever so beautifully from a vast distance, becoming stronger and larger as they advanced toward the island. I could spot that famous seventh wave (the biggest one of the wave series-hurtling toward me), but I knew too much about the waves for them to scare me. By the time the wave was twice my height from thirty feet away, it lost its structure and fell unceremoniously forward. A slight tug of white water almost pulled my feet out from under me. I recovered and began walking towards my pile of clothes, with my back feeling the warmth of the rising sun. I stuffed my legs into my soothingly dry jeans and stared once more at the water thinking, “this is where I belong, this is where I am meant to be.”

Beau·ti·ful; byo͞odəfəl/adjective -pleasing the senses or mind aesthetically. The word beautiful. The majority of people in this generation only think objects or people fulfill this word. They don't contemplate the one thing with the most beauty, the beach. When most hear the word ‘beach’, they see it as a landform alongside water or someplace to hang out at. No one digs a hole in their mind to get as deep as they can into thought. When you truly consider what a beach really is, the outcome is beautiful.

The sun radiated onto the sandy beach, scorching the skin of the families playing in the water or lounging on the nearby shore. I raise my hand to shield my eyes from the bright light, I marvel how there isn’t an inch of empty beach along the entire Island shore. Children are tossing balls to one another shouting in joy with their parents nearby soaking up the sun. The August weather is wonderful for collecting sun for a few hours, and I always come to the beach every chance I get just to relax from the hectic chaos of work.

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 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 underneath the house. I decided to carry both of the floral umbrellas while my brothers took the foldable beach chairs, after grabbing all of our gear, we headed back up the weather stairs and towards 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. As we traveled closer the vivid orange sun began to ascend from the deep sea. At this early point in the morning, the sand walkway surrounded by dunes hadn’t heated up from the sun, so it had a nice cold feeling of the sand between each toe. Upon reaching the shore, we noticed that not many beachgoers had set up their chairs or umbrellas. We took this opportunity

It began with a blazing, crackling, smokey fire. Friends and family sat there with a glow from the fire upon us. All of us, Corbin, Charles, my Mom, my Aunt, and I, sat silently listening to a mixture of the fire, along with ocean. Knowing that the blazing sun would soon set, Corbin, Charles and I made the decision to go to the beach. The journey taken that evening led me to realize my sense of direction.

After lazily waking up, my family and I head to the beach to enjoy the brisk day. It’s only around seventy-five degrees, but that doesn’t falter our excitement for the beach. The sun shines through the clouds as we head down to pick a spot. The waves are calm and inviting as we lay our stuff down. The wind is moving through the beachgrass like a quiet whisper. The seagulls caw, and attempt to steal the snacks we brought. There’s some kids playing in the water, but more are playing in the sand since the water’s so cold. Days like this are quite typical at the beach in Hilton Head, South Carolina.

What do I get most anxious about when I go to the beach? Sprinting, tearing, racing to the ocean. Regarding nothing but the crystal blue, balmy, water and feeling pure contentment. But in my rush to get to the water, my care for the surrounding sights seem to slip my mind. I glance around, and at first sight one might see a few teenagers on summer break, in their Nemo colored swimsuits and shameless black sunglasses, gamboling around and bubbling with joy. You might see the few mothers daring enough to bring their giggling toddlers wearing bright bubblegum pink hats that match the shade of their sweet, sun burnt, little, cheeks. Look around a little more. Open your eyes a little wider. Skim the surface of the water topped with chalky white foam and teeming with meager little creatures of the sea whose shells spiral around

When I so that pool, I was in shock the palms around the white sand, and the clear salt water make it and artificial beach. Gabriel played for 4 hours in the pool and went we realized it was dark the night had arrived so we went to our rooms anxious for the next day.