A Windy Day at the Beach
It’s a lashing wind today. My neighbor’s flag beats itself against the wood; it sounds like the pattering of a hard rain.
Down on the beach, umbrellas remained furled and bound. They stand like colorful sentries, looking out over the waves. Hunched-over people walk against the wind; white -gray gulls fly effortlessly with it.
Smaller sea oats are bending in praise to the sand. Others dance frantically, their heavy oats swinging like golden dreadlocks whipping in the wind.
The wooden bridge to the beach is almost covered by sand so white; it could be snow if not for the hot sun. As I walk down it, my footsteps on the path begin to disappear behind me, like invisible ink. They’ll be gone before I get to the steps.
I kick off my sandals, hopping from foot to foot, as the heated sand burns the tender skin of my bare feet. Tiny arrows of rough sand sting my legs. The wind will take no prisoners today. It will bury them. Perhaps never to be found.
My nose twitches at the combined smell of salt and rotting seaweed. Full of bits of bleached wood, ripped green plastic and other human waste, the seaweed stretches down the beach in a jagged line.
The remains of a crab catch my eye. He lies in pieces only a foot from a hole that could have been his escape.
At the shore’s edge, I step into the dark wet sand. The warm gulf water kisses my feet and rushes away, like a shy lover. Nearby, a sandpiper is nodding and teetering in the sand, foraging for food.
The waves crash then recede; creating a constant refrain in my ears. Wearing white foamy caps, they careen towards the shore. Swimmers leap, like fish, as the waves run them over in a reckless rush of heavy water.
Shadows pass overhead, drawing my eyes upwards as a flock of pelicans fly above me. The sunlight contrasts creamy bellies and brown feathers against the cornflower blue sky.
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This is some free writing from my journal. I wrote it on our last trip to the beach. It’s been slightly cleaned up, hopefully making it a bit easier to read:~)
I’ve been working on learning to write using my senses. This is a challenge for me! I find visual description relatively easy. Sound, taste and texture are okay, but I really struggle with the description of smells! Think about it. How does a blade of grass smell?
I once plucked a blade and sniffed it, but no words would come. The closest I ever came to describing the smell was tangy:~) Let me know how you would describe the smell of a blade of grass.