beach house description creative writing

Beach Description Essay

Looking for simple and beautiful descriptive writing about a beach in summer? The beach description essay below is just what you need! Get inspired for your own creative writing with us.

Introduction

Description of a beach.

Summer is the perfect time for individuals to visit and enjoy the marvelous scenes along the coast. In addition, the feelings and experiences felt on the beach during the summer are always fantastic. Several sceneries and experiences are seen and felt at the beach during summer. These include; the plantation along the beach and inside the sea, the animals, the waters, and the people found on the beach.

The beach appears to be alive and joyful with the presence of the natural vegetation. There are evergreen plantations both along and inside the beach. Images of buoyant seaweeds can be seen along the shore. Palms trees are seen to stand tall along the beach, dancing to the tune of the breeze emanating from the waters of the sea.

The sea grapes and the sea oats are also observed gathered in clusters in the sea next to the shore. Their colored flowers are splendid and brighten at the shining of the summer sun. The sweet scent of the flower grapes sends a signal to the world about the hope brought by nature.

The atmosphere is fully intensified by the aroma produced by the buoyant sea flowers. In addition, from afar, images of leafless trees are also observed. The perfect combination of the vegetation along the beach and inside the sea displays the beauty of nature to the highest peak.

It mesmerizes the eyes to gaze at the beautiful creatures that hover all over the beach and on the deep-sea waters. There are sights of beautiful birds that fly all over the dry shoreland and over the seawaters. Their colored feathers brightened the sea with a marvelous appearance at their illumination by the sun’s rays.

There are varieties of birds that are in the vicinity. For instance, there are pelicans and seagulls. Pelicans are seen hovering over the sand, singing sweet melodies that make the atmosphere at the beach vibrant. The seagulls are also observed to be flying over the seawater in small groups. Some of the birds are gathered in groups spreading the wings that cloaked a soft shadow on the gentle water ripples.

Next to the shore, there are sea turtles that seem to enjoy the summer heat from the sun. Their eggs are also seen to be exposed on the sand by the children that play on the shoreline. Bees are seen flying from one flower to another over the sea grapes. The humming of the bees as they gather nectar from the sea flowers attracts insect-eating birds.

Large crowds are observed all over the seashore. These people come to enjoy themselves on the beach at this period of the year. In the sea, people of all ages and sexes are seen swimming and playing with the cool seawater. The scorching heat from the summer sun is felt on the forehead of all individuals.

This makes the people chill themselves in the cool waters of the sea. The children are seen playing beach ball on the shoreline. Some children are also seen pelt each other with sand on the shoreline. Besides, young boys are observed climbing tall palm trees to gather fruits.

What is more, several activities take place along and inside the shoreline. Vendors are seen carrying ice creams and soft drinks all over the shoreline. Views of homes, hotels, and other buildings that run along the peak of the beach are also seen. On the sand where children play, pieces of shells are scattered.

In most cases, children collect the shells for fun. In the shades built along the shoreline, people are seen reading books, journals, and magazines. Some are seen idling on the sand, while few adults are observed playing football.

However, there is a disgusting scene of plastic bags, cigarette butts, food wrappers, and beer bottles along the beach. These items seem to pollute the entire shoreline and the seawater.

Anglers are also observed far into the sea casting large nets into the waters to have a bulk catch of their prey. Some of the anglers are also observed perching on the edge of the shore carrying sticks in their hands. Their faces displayed the anticipation that they had for their prey.

The deep waters of the sea produce a marvelous view for anyone who gazes at the sea. The water is seen to be slowly running low on the shore. Small waves are also observed crashing on the shoreline. The surface of the sea is seen to appear blue in color.

However, some portions are also seen to have the spectrum that results from the sun’s refracted rays. Deep inside the sea, there are high waves that lift boats up and down mightily. The shimmering waves of the sea that are clear and blue mirror the rays of the hot sun. The refreshing breeze that emanates from the seawater is enjoyable.

In conclusion, the beach has a perfect view and activities that are delightful to experience during the summer. It is a place that everyone would love to be at all times.

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How to Describe a Beach in Writing (21 Best Tips & Examples)

The gentle ebb and flow of waves, the warmth of golden sands, and the melodies of seagulls overhead – beaches captivate the senses.

I’ve described beaches many times in my own short stories and novels.

Here’s how to describe a beach in writing :

Describe a beach in writing by focusing on its unique size, climate, sand color, and location. Explore sensory details such as the sound of waves, the scent of saltwater, and the feel of the sand. Highlight cultural elements, marine life, vegetation, seasonal shifts, and local activities.

In this guide, you’ll learn everything you need to know to describe a beach in writing.

1. Unearth the Sands of Time

Table of Contents

Every beach tells a story.

Some are age-old resting spots for local fishermen, while others have seen shipwrecks, invasions, or have been silent witnesses to lovers’ tales.

Before diving into descriptions, research the history of the beach you’re writing about.

This will not only add depth to your narrative but also connect readers to a bygone era.

Plus, if you love beaches as much as I do, then this will be pure heaven for you.

While some beaches have preserved their old-world charm with untouched landscapes, others boast modern-day beach shacks, surfing schools, or yoga retreats.

Distinguishing between the ancient sands and modernized coasts can set the mood for your description.

2. Palette of the Sands

Not all beaches are golden.

Some have white, powdery sands, while others flaunt a rare black, pink, or even green hue.

The color of the sand can significantly influence the ambiance of the beach.

Dive into the specifics – is the sand fine or coarse? Is it cool to the touch or sun-baked and warm?

Often, the sand isn’t just sand. It’s interspersed with shells, pebbles, seaweed, and sometimes even fragments of corals. Highlight these unique elements as they add character to the beach and provide sensory details for readers.

3. Dance of the Tides

Some beaches are known for their calm, lapping waves, making them ideal for relaxation.

In contrast, others are marked by powerful, crashing waves perfect for adventurous activities like surfing.

Describe the rhythm, sound, and sight of the waves to convey the beach’s spirit.

Understanding the tidal patterns can greatly enhance your description.

Low tides might expose hidden tidal pools, while high tides might bring with them a sense of mystery and anticipation.

This also affects the beach’s width and appearance at different times.

4. Symphony of the Shore

The beach isn’t silent.

From the cries of the seagulls to the whispers of the winds and the rhythmic sound of waves, nature creates a symphony.

Use auditory descriptions to transport readers to the shore.

On popular beaches, the sound of children’s laughter, chatter from nearby cafes, or tunes from a distant radio can add layers to the auditory experience.

Decide whether your beach is serene and untouched or bustling with activity.

5. Coastal Climate Chronicles

Is the beach sun-drenched, making it ideal for sunbathing? Or is it frequently cloaked in mist, giving it a mysterious aura?

The weather plays a crucial role in setting the scene and can influence activities, moods, and narratives.

Beaches transform with seasons.

While summer brings in crowds and vibrant energy, winter might render the beach desolate, with only the bravest souls venturing out.

Describe these shifts to add depth to your narrative.

6. Sunlit Spectacles

The magic of a beach often unfolds during the golden hours.

Narrate the transformation of the horizon as the sun rises, casting a delicate pink and gold hue, or as it sets, engulfing the world in fiery reds and deep purples.

The changing colors reflect not only in the sky but also in the water and sand.

While sunrise and sunset are dramatic, the midday sun brings out the vibrancy of beach activities, and nighttime might unveil a sky full of stars or even bioluminescent waves on certain beaches.

7. Flora’s Flourish

Many beaches are lined with specific vegetation, from towering palm trees to delicate dune flowers.

Describe the flora’s color, shape, and how it dances in the breeze, adding life to the coastal landscape.

Floral aromas mixed with the salty sea air can create a heady combination.

Bring out the varied fragrances one might encounter while taking a leisurely stroll.

8. Fauna Features

Tidal pools might house starfish, crabs, or tiny fishes.

Coral beaches might be teeming with colorful marine life. Delve into the beauty of the creatures that call the beach their home.

From seagulls to pelicans and sandpipers, the avian world adds movement and sound to the beach.

Their behaviors, from hunting for fish to playful chases, can be delightful to describe.

9. Activity Avenues

Be it children building sandcastles, surfers riding waves, or yoga enthusiasts greeting the sun, beaches often become hubs of activities.

Depicting these can give readers a sense of the beach’s energy.

Not all beachgoers seek company.

Some look for solitude – a quiet corner to read, meditate, or just gaze at the horizon.

Highlighting these moments adds depth and contrast.

10. Textures and Touch

Beyond visuals, the feel of the beach is vital.

Is the sand powdery soft, or is it grainy and rough? Does the water feel icy cold or pleasantly warm?

Engaging the sense of touch can make descriptions palpable.

How does the beach make one feel? Tranquil, exhilarated, nostalgic?

Tapping into emotions can resonate deeply with readers.

11. Tastes of the Tides

A trip to the beach is incomplete without the taste of salt on your lips from the sea spray.

For many beaches, nearby stalls serve fresh seafood.

Describing the tantalizing flavors of the ocean’s bounty can make readers’ mouths water.

Beach destinations often have signature beverages – from coconut water to adult drinks.

Highlighting these drinks can set the tone and mood of the beach scene.

12. Auditory Adventures

Every beach has its unique sound of waves – from gentle lapping to roaring surfs.

These sounds are soothing and rhythmic, making them integral to a beach description.

Include the distant laughter of beachgoers, the chirping of coastal birds, or the playful shout of children.

Such sounds breathe life into the scene.

13. Historical Hints

Many beaches have rich histories, from pirate tales to ancient civilizations.

Weaving in some historical elements can give depth to the beach’s narrative.

Statues, forts, or old lighthouses can stand as silent witnesses to the past. Mentioning these can make a beach scene more vivid and layered.

14. Moods of the Sea

The mood of the sea changes with weather and tides.

While a calm sea can be serene and inviting, a stormy sea can be wild and dramatic. Depicting these moods can influence the story’s atmosphere.

Low tide might reveal hidden treasures like shells or ancient shipwrecks, while high tide brings in waves and fresh mysteries.

The ebb and flow of tides can be metaphorical and descriptive.

15. Colorful Canvases

Describing the varying shades of blues, greens, and golds of the sea, sky, and sand can paint a vivid picture.

Sunlight plays a role in these changing hues, so consider the time of day.

Beaches at night transform into a world of silvery moonlight, shadows, and possibly bioluminescent creatures.

Using a palette of darker shades can set a contrasting and mystical scene.

16. Human Imprints

From lone footprints in the sand to majestic sandcastles, human touch is evident on many beaches.

Describing these imprints can suggest recent activity or age-old legacies.

Sadly, not all human imprints are poetic (or positive).

Describing signs of pollution, like plastic waste, can serve as a stark reminder and add an environmental angle to your narrative.

17. Unique Underwater Worlds

Many beaches are gateways to underwater paradises.

Vividly describing the diverse, colorful corals can transport readers into a magical realm.

Each coral formation has its own charm, from brain corals’ intricate patterns to the elegant sway of sea fans.

Beaches often harbor rich marine ecosystems.

Describing encounters with playful dolphins, curious turtles, or schools of shimmering fish can add depth and wonder to your narrative.

18. Local Life and Culture

Many coastal communities have age-old traditions linked to the sea.

Highlighting local festivals, rituals, or even daily activities like fish markets can provide readers with a cultural immersion.

Local handicrafts or special beachside dishes can offer a sensory feast.

Be it a description of intricate seashell jewelry or the tantalizing aroma of grilled seafood, integrating local flavors can enrich your beach description.

19. Dynamic Dunes and Vegetation

Sand dunes, shaped by the wind, can change forms and create mesmerizing patterns.

Describing these dynamic landscapes can add an element of nature’s artistry to your narrative.

Coastal vegetation, from tall palm trees to dense mangroves, not only adds to the beach’s visual appeal but also plays a crucial role in maintaining coastal ecology.

Diving into descriptions of these can add both beauty and educational value.

20. Seasonal Shifts

While summer might bring in sunbathers, winter could wrap the beach in misty allure. Capturing these seasonal nuances can create varied and engaging settings.

Monsoon or hurricane seasons can drastically change beach atmospheres.

Describing the sheer power of nature during such times can infuse drama and tension into your story.

21. Adventure and Activities

From surfing monstrous waves to peaceful kayaking sessions, beaches offer numerous adventure opportunities.

Describing the thrill and challenges of these activities can inject action into your beach scenes.

Leisurely activities like beachcombing can be therapeutic and rewarding.

Detailed descriptions of discovering seashells, driftwood, or even messages in bottles can add mystery and intrigue.

Here is my video that I made about how to describe a beach in writing:

30 Best Words to Describe a Beach in Writing

I’ve collected some of the best words to describe beaches.

Feel free to use these words to bring beaches to life in your own stories:

Sun-drenched
Crystal-clear
Picturesque

30 Best Phrases to Describe a Beach in Writing

Consider using these phrases to describe the beaches in your stories:

Waves lapping at the shore
Blanket of golden sands
Palm trees swaying gently
Horizon stretching endlessly
Colors of the setting sun
Children building sandcastles
Echo of distant seagulls
Soft whisper of the ocean breeze
Shells scattered like treasures
Footprints washed away
Secrets of the deep blue
Calm before the storm
A dance of playful dolphins
Reflection of a crimson sky
Nature’s perfect canvas
Dunes shaped by the wind
Taste of salt on the lips
Shadows growing longer
Aromas of beachside grills
Moonlit silver waters
Mystery of tidal patterns
Laughter and beach games
Sway of coastal grasses
Rhythms of the coastal life
Stories the tide brings in
Gentle embrace of the sea
Paradise found and lost
Hideaway for dreamers
Dance of light on waves
Sands of time standing still

3 Examples of How to Describe a Beach

Let’s look at three imaginative depictions of beaches, each resonating with the unique essence of its respective genre.

Romance : The serene beach under the moon’s embrace seemed to whisper tales of ageless romances. The moonlight cast a silvery glow on the quiet beach, where waves serenaded the shores. The sands, cool beneath their feet, became their dance floor. Their hearts resonated with the rhythm of the waves, as they lost themselves in each other’s embrace, amidst the vastness of the ocean.
Mystery/Thriller : A heavy atmosphere weighed down on the beach, with secrets buried as deep as its oceanic abyss. The beach was eerily silent, save for the relentless pounding of the waves. A thick fog hung low, concealing much of the shore. As Detective Adams approached, the beam from his flashlight revealed a set of footprints, leading into the mysterious abyss of the night.
Fantasy : To the common eye, it’s a beach. But for those with the sight, The Golden Sands of Elaria were gateways to otherworldly adventures. As dawn broke, the sands sparkled with magic. Mermaids emerged from the turquoise depths, dragons soared above the azure skies, and ancient runes appeared, guiding brave adventurers to hidden realms beneath.

Final Thoughts: How to Describe a Beach in Writing

Describing beaches is truly an ocean of opportunities.

Dive into more treasures by exploring other articles on our site – you never know what pearls of wisdom you’ll unearth!

Creative Writing Inspiration and Ideas: 10 Beach Writing Prompts

Posted on January 19, 2020 by aaronmullins

Beach Writing Inspiration Creative Writing Prompts Generating Short Story Ideas Sea Seaside

Beach writing prompts and creative writing inspiration often comes to us in waves of inspirational writing ideas . Sometimes quite literally, when we head to the sands for some beach story ideas .

Short story inspiration can be found within the relaxing sound of the waves. Poetry inspiration formed along with footprints with the soft crush of sand beneath your feet.

Beach writing prompts are scattered across the sand. Creative writing inspiration discovered among the lost items washed ashore. Beach short story ideas forming from a mysterious object bobbing on the waves. Good story ideas are sometimes hard to come by, but a stroll along the beach may be all the writing inspiration you need.

Beach Creative Writing Ideas

A walk along the beach is just what a writer needs to clear their heads of daily tasks, relax them, and release their imagination and ideas. Many studies have shown that a walk on the beach lowers stress and blood pressure, boosts mood and has many positive effects on mental health. All things that can also boost creativity for writers .

The beach is also inspiring for us authors. Anything could be buried in the sand, or wash up on the shore. Everything we see is a beach writing prompt , if we only wonder where it came from, who the previous owner was.

Any kind of horror beach short story idea could be lurking in the darker depths of the sea, or a poetry idea related to the treasure waiting to be discovered on the seabed. Romance authors could even find inspiration for characters who don’t mind a bit of sand in hard to reach places…

“Meredith did drop her dress and her inhibitions, afterwards gently plucking a dainty shell from her bottom.”

I have just remembered why I don’t write beach romance stories.

Writing Stories at the Beach

I have some big news to share with you… after 21 years living in England, I have finally moved back to Scotland ! Ayrshire on the west coast is now my home. I can let the full Scots back into my accent, and my daughter can develop her own twang, so she may finally be able to understand what I’m saying in the home videos of my childhood!

I grew up in Wick, which is in Caithness (near John O’ Groats) in the far north of Scotland. A small town filled with decent, good-hearted, funny and hard-working people, my family included. Wick and the Highlands have become the setting in quite a few of my recent beach short story ideas .

In fact, enough to fill a book with a couple of beach story ideas …

The majority of my family are Scottish. My dad had also spent part of his childhood growing up in Wick and we had attended the same secondary school, Wick High School. My grandparents ran a tearoom in Strathpeffer and over the years the rest of us became spread out across the Highlands. The A9 north from Inverness is basically the trunk of my family tree, with each of us settled on the branches along the way (minus the few who smuggled themselves south of the border).

Beach Short Story Ideas

Wick has grown over the years that I have been away. What I remember as fields is now a retail park. The Caithness Glass factory that fascinated me as a child is closed down long ago. The ‘forest’ next to it that my friends and I used to play in as children is now mostly fenced off. However, all these memories and experiences are perfect for beach short story ideas and creative writing prompts .

I have been back up nearly every single year since I left as a fresh-faced 16 year old in 1999, sometimes two or three times, on 1,500 mile road trips. Sadly, in the name of progress, my primary school has been knocked down (North Primary School) and my high school is currently empty, a modern one built behind it.

Edit : You can read about the ghosts that haunted my school and terrified me as a child (and also provided writing inspiration ) in the bestseller Scottish Urban Legends: 50 Myths and True Stories .

Beach Themed Writing Ideas

The following is an excerpt from my beach short story Call of the Nuckelavee which was published in my bestselling book Mysteries and Misadventures: Tales from the Highlands .

The story is about a broken-hearted woman who trudges along the sandy dunes, following the voice of her drowned father. Her mind full of questions, she spies a dog ahead that appears to be beckoning her to follow. She suddenly realises it’s her father’s dog, missing since the day of his death. To rescue the dog, she launches herself into the sea, where she comes face to face with a creature from Scottish legends that has haunted her recent nightmares. With suspicions about her father’s drowning swirling around in her head, she must decide quickly how far she is willing to go to get answers.

She gasped as her foot slipped at the top of the dune. Arms flailing, she tumbled over the high ridge and down the steep sandy embankment. Coarse grass and broken shells scratched at her palms and face as she slid to a halt at the bottom. Need to be more careful. Drawing deep gulps of air, she spat a glob of salty grit onto the sand and pushed herself to her knees. The soft pale sand, so beautiful from a distance, betrayed those who wandered too close to its edge. She knew this, but she didn’t have a choice. The sea called to her, the promise of dark revelations on its lips. Confessing its misdeeds. Scowling from the effort, she stood and brushed the sand from her thick coat and fleece-lined leggings. Let’s do this.

The above book, Scottish Legends: 55 Mythical Monsters , is packed full of sea creatures and beach-dwelling mythical monsters. Based on Scottish folktales, myths and legends, any of these creatures could inspire fantastic beach writing ideas for your own stories.

Beach Creative Writing Prompts

The memories and friendships I have from my childhood are still strong, and now I’m living a bit closer my road trips will not take as long! Importantly, I can still visit the beaches I played on as a child. Reiss Beach in particular is one of the most beautiful beaches I have ever been to and is a great source of beach writing inspiration for me. And you can still find me having a dip in the North Sea (even the Trinkie) as late as October and November!

Wick and the surrounding area has a strong heritage, from the iron ages, to the Norse pagan period. It’s believed Wick was originally named from the Norse word vik , meaning bay. A Viking town then with an enormous sense of history, adventure, mystery and wonder in its beaches, forests and ruins. Endless beach writing inspiration for short stories and book characters.

To help you form your own creative writing ideas , here is a list of 10 beach story writing prompts :

Walking along the beach, your dog returns with a mysterious object in his mouth
Your dog stops at a particular patch of sand and starts whining and digging
You spot a mysterious object shining among the ashes of a beach campfire
You glimpse a hand rising from the sea, beckoning you to enter
As you walk along the beach, a familiar voice on the wind whispers your name
Drag marks in the sand lead inside a beach cave, but no footprints leave
You lift a small crab from a rock pool, and it speaks to you
You lose track of time exploring, and the tide has come in quicker than expected
After a flash of light on the beach, you return home to find the world has changed
As you watch the sun set behind the horizon, something rises from the sea

I hope these beach writing prompts help you generate your own beach story ideas .

Best of luck with your writing!

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Email Address

Aaron Mullins ( @DrAaronMullins ) is an award winning, internationally published psychologist and bestselling author. Aaron has over 15 years experience in the publishing industry, with expertise in business strategy for authors and publishers. He started Birdtree Books Publishing where he worked as Editor-in-Chief, partnered with World Reader Charity and taught Academic Writing at Coventry University. Aaron’s book How to Write Fiction: A Creative Writing Guide for Authors has become a staple reference book for writers and those interested in a publishing career. Find out more .

One Comment on “ Creative Writing Inspiration and Ideas: 10 Beach Writing Prompts ”

This post was truly worthwhile to read. I wanted to say thank you for the key points you have pointed out as they are enlightening.

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Beach - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing

beach grass
beachcombing
Caribbean Island
ice cream van
ideas to write a story
ocean shore
sea pebbles
tanned skin

Rocks of barnacle crown and seaweed garland adorn the beach as titan crowd.

A chorus of sun-warmed grains sings the melody of the beaches right into my core.

As the seabed swaps the salty brine for oceanic air, we see the beach rise from lacy waves.

Upon the sunny beach, upon the rising gold, my eyes listen to the light as it plays upon seawater.

When these boats of nature's tide, these free sailing sun-kissed branches, come to rest upon either pebbles or golden sands, they sit as kings adoring the seawater view.

There is a soft song of the marram grasses, the green lullaby that speaks so well to the soul without even a whispered word.

The softened hues of the beach at eventide are the colours of my ever-dreams.

The sand is the most gentle hue of gold, almost earthen and muted, the humble star of the scene. I love this beach. I love the driftwood that comes upon the buoyant waves as tiny rescue boats. Then there is the seaweed, that flora of those salty waves, as deeply green as any high summer foliage. My favourite though, of everything that is here upon the softly rolling dunes, is the tall, tall grass that whispers so sweetly into the gusting breeze.

The beach stretched out alongside the water, these constant friends chattering as the water comes in her reassuring way, as if her joy is to soothe the sand. And in her wake she gives the chance for life, for the rock pools to refill. Those briny waves come as rain to a dessert, a gift never repaid, as it always is with nature... the strong give, life thrives... and so it goes on.

Upon this primrose sand, the hue as gentle on the eye as a vintage photograph, there is a steady warmth from the grains. Already the stars glow as if they have kept a pocket of the daytime to shine all through the night sky. Sometimes I think the earth and the moon choose to give of their borrowed warmth and light until the return of the sun, the brilliance forever promised at dawn. Until then, here I remain, breathing deeply of ocean carried air, listening to the percussion of waves that has been my lullaby since before I was a consciousness wrapped in human form.

Jerry sat on the beach, his eyes moving from sand to stone, from rock pools to breaking waves. In the gentle spring sunshine he felt as if he were swimming in the briny aroma, as if the new rays of the day brought a frisson of energy to his finger tips. It was a day for letting his eyes stay open, as he were an old fashioned camera, remaining still while the image developed. The gulls brought their hight notes to the percussion of pebbles at the shoreline. It was a day for dreaming, for allowing time to move fast and slow.

The rain gives of herself unto the ocean, each fragment becoming apart of the body of brine, of the waves and sea-lace. I hear each watery gift, softer than the patter on a rooftop, moving in subtle waves of its own according to the wind. I wonder if this is how music began, how mankind thought to conjure song and dance, by hearing the natural rhythms of nature. Upon the sand, the rain is almost silent, enriching the hue from cream to ears of summer maize.

The sand is softly golden with just the right comforting warmth. To rest on the beach feels like a cosy hug, one only matched by the sunshine filled sky. Tom stretches out both arms and legs to look like a boy-starfish, his grin growing slowly into a broad smile. The only marker of time today is the sun above, the moments savoured by the waves that wash the sands in white lace.

With browning legs curled under, dusted with sand like flour on bread, I sit close to the lapping waves. They feel warm and cool, like tea that's been forgotten and returned to. My fingers wiggle in the water, in these lips of the ocean as she sings. In this place I will remain until the tide is lower, scooping the sand that runs like cold lava through my star-fish fingers and onto the dry beach. With each handful I twist my body as if dancing in a chair, gazing at the falling sand. Below it rises a drip-castle, a sandcastle that looks for all the world like a melted candle. By sunset there will be a long skinny line of them following the ocean as she chases the moon.

In twilight the beach was tinted sepia, the sand more orange, the water darker, our skin soft to the eye. We sat there, Tara to my left, Leon to my right, just taking in the evening and chatting in our characteristic pattern, the laughs and the serious intermingled.

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beach house description creative writing

Write that Scene

May your writing spirit live on forever

How to Write a Beach Scene

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At first, focus on the overall atmosphere.

» A. To start your story, describe the weather, the crowd and their activities.

I. Begin with the weather but ease your way into describing what the five senses are experiencing. Describe the feel of the sand between the character’s toes, the brightness of the sun in their eyes, the sounds of the waves, the sounds of children playing in the sand, the taste of the ocean water. Here are some words you can use:

C. Smell: Seaweed/saltwater Feel: Humid sea air Gritty sand Cool water

II. Use metaphors, similes and color to breathe life into your scene. The ocean is an aqua blue, the sand is pale yellow, and the sun is a fierce, hot yellow. The sky is a gorgeous light blue with big, fluffy white clouds. Here are some phrases you can use:

C. Long golden sands with the waves lapping on the shore.

D. First thing that hit him/her was the salty air.

Listening with both an open heart and ear, Jonah heard the waves crashing against a nearby rock. This rock had been the go-to place for him as a kid. He used to jump off of it and into the water, or sit on it and read his favorite book.

But it didn’t end there. The one thing that made Jonah always returned to the beach wasn’t only because of those reasons. It also had to do with the feel— the emotion he got whenever he looked out far into the ocean. He would forget all forms of agony, pain, regret and frustration. A strong since of peace and calm resided over him always. Only the beach made him feel such things.

With the infinite blue sky above promising sunshine, and the big, fluffy white clouds adding a touch of ecstasy.

Something interesting should happen, no doubt.

» A. A bit of mystery and action is always a good thing.

I. Maybe the character moved to another part of the beach and it’s a lot louder or quieter? Or maybe there’s music, dance and a party.

Example 2:

Then it happened. Just like that! No thinking, no pauses: Jonah jumped into the water, screaming. Carolyn looked his way immediately. Running quickly to save him, she blew her whistle for back up and used her binocular to find the fallen body. Jonah saw her every move through his squinted eyes, however he knew in order to make it look realistic, he had to go under water. So he did and in the water below, he pictured Carolyn rescuing him and kissing him…. uh, I mean… doing CPR.

» B. How does the environment affect your character and what’s happening to them? Use the background to emphasize the character’s emotions rather than describing them.

I. Be sure to give vivid imagery. Allow your reader to continue to see what is going on, in order for the scene to have a realistic feel. What I mean by that is, while you’re talking about the drama, mystery or action events that unfold, every so often add in the “normal stuff” that happens around the character. These can easily become a symbolic meaning. Here are a few “normal, symbolic meaning stuff” to give you an idea:

C. Playful seal take a ride in a wave = happiness, childlike mindset, freedom, endless joy

D. A whale surfacing to get a breath can be seen. = revelation, secrets unfold, epic adventure lying ahead

E. Fishermen’s lines hanging off the pier into the water in hopes of catching dinner. = a new start, overwhelming beginnings, hope for the future, determination to improve one’s circumstances

F. The sunlight starting to fade = dreams are lost, stuck in darkness, forbidden love

G. Surfers exit the sea, and build bonfires in the pits and you smell marshmallows burning in the fire. = treasuring the here and now, aspiration ideals about life and upcoming events, finding happiness in the simplest of things

In other words, relate it back to what is going in the story. If your character is talking to a guy she likes, insert a part in your scene about a seal talking a ride in a wave. If your character is feeling miserable and is walking on the beach feeling lonely, insert a part in your scene about them seeing the left overs of children’s sand castles. Come up with your own if you like. Example 3:

Jonah had been knocked out — he really drowned himself without realizing it. The hot and heavy daydream about Carolyn saving him made him forget to come up for air. By the time Jonah work up, he saw seaweed piled in heaps in various spots on the beach. There were no children and broken shells lined the water line which was filled with debris.

“What, where am I?” Jonah said. Carolyn hovered over him. “Did I go to hell?” Jonah stood up. “There’s no way because you’re here. Tell me, what happened, Carolyn?”

Identify the main purpose of this scene. Don’t let it linger on without meaning.

» A. Connect all that you can in this scene with your plot. Enhance the characters, bring in new revelations, and/or establish a long-lasting setting that will take place throughout the entire novel.

I. What significant thing happens during this scene? Is it someone that your character meets? Something they find? What important event unfolds and how does your character handle it? II. What is the next step? If the scene’s purpose was for your character to meet someone, then are they going to leave the beach and go somewhere else to have a more serious, maybe private conversation? If not, the beach can be their go to area where they meet in secret, far, far away from the rest of the world. III. Does the ocean or animals on the beach have any relevance? Or does this scene on pertain around human beings and their behaviors toward one another? Animals can potentially save your character if they are about to drown. Animals can be in danger and your character tries to help them, and, in the process, they meet the love of their life or a true friend that wants to help this animal too. Hint: it could be the lifeguard.

Example 4:

Carolyn spoke with such elegance. This was the first time Jonah heard her speak. “Your heart stopped beating and I had to do CPR on you. The ambulance is on its way so hang in there, okay.”

“Wait, Carolyn,” Jonah tried to speak as best as he could, “before they take me away, I want to say I love you so very much.”

» B. Exit the scene in style, and leave hints about if the character will return or not.

I. One of the best ways to finish a beach scene is to show how the scenery, setting and/or environment took effect on your character. For instance, did your character have more peace after visiting the beach or feel anger. Then, connect it back to your plot. Whatever trials and tribulations your character faced throughout the book, take from your simple beach scene and incorporate into the story.

Let’s say at the beach your character finally learned how to swim. Then maybe later on in your book have the character save someone who is about to drown, or join a swimming competition. Another example is if your character met someone. Maybe that special someone can later be of importance to your protagonist

II. What is the most important image/memory that both the character and reader should take from this scene? It could be as small as the walk on the beach to as big as learning how to swim, finally. You decide. And, with that image/memory, have your character reminisce about their time on the way back home. Give them a short dialogue or monologue, saying how their time was well spent. (Unless, of course, they had a miserable time at the beach).

Example 5:

Carolyn giggled. “I know,” she said, “before you woke up you were mumbling to yourself. I know everything. All about your crush, all about your fake drowning attempt.”

“And you’re not mad at me?”

Carolyn shrugged. “I was. But I guess I forgave you.”

Jonah closed his eyes and smiled. “See, this is why I love you. I don’t know you very well but your awesome personality shines through.”

“Don’t be corny,” Carolyn said.

“No, I’m being serious. When the ambulance comes to take me away, will I be able to see you again?”

Carolyn nodded. “Of course. You can always find me here.”

“Right, I almost forgot. Silly me. You’re a life guard.”

Carolyn turned red. “Um,” she said softly, “not just a life guard.” She pointed down. “I’m also a mermaid. The ocean is my home.”

Jonah looked down at the large, purple fin he had been resting on. Surprised to see that it was real and in no way a trick, he fainted once again. This time, he had a very vivid dream that only he will ever know about.

** !You might have to scroll down the textbox with your mouse!

Jonah hadn’t been to the beach since his first semester of college started. It had been a long couple of months but he survived nonetheless. And, instead of going to a frat party to drink himself silly, he wanted to revisit the place where he first fell in love with life. Could it have been the dazzling sand that sparked in the golden sunlight, or the hungry seagulls beating their wings against the ambush of wind. Listening with both an open heart and ear, Jonah heard the waves crashing against a nearby rock. This rock had been the go-to place for him as a kid. He used to jump off of it and into the water, or sit on it and read his favorite book.

As the memories poured in, Jonah headed over to the rock where he knew a flood of happiness would follow him. The best stress relief wasn’t popping pills or smoking a joint with his buds, nah… it was the peaceful serenity of the beach. The smell of saltwater traveling up his nostrils, releasing a spell-like hypnotic trance on him. Yes, it was the gritty sand against his bare feet, the tall, hard rock positioned appropriately against his butt as he read a book. But it didn’t end there. The one thing that made Jonah always returned to the beach wasn’t only because of those reasons. It also had to do with the feel— the emotion he got whenever he looked out far into the ocean. He would forget all forms of agony, pain, regret and frustration. A strong since of peace and calm resided over him always. Only the beach made him feel such things. With the infinite blue sky above promising sunshine, and the big, fluffy white clouds adding a touch of ecstasy.

Though, all of this fantasizing buildup went out his mind the moment he saw Carolyn, the life guard. She was ten years older than him, but ever since Jonah could remember he had a major crush on her. Watching her sexy body climb up in her high chair with the binoculars in one hand and a whistle around her neck, gave Jonah an idea. A devious idea. The other beach goers meant nothing to him; he wanted her to notice him one way or another…. even if it meant fake drowning. Then it happened. Just like that! No thinking, no pauses: Jonah jumped into the water, screaming. Carolyn looked his way immediately. Running quickly to save him, she blew her whistle for back up and used her binocular to find the fallen body. Jonah saw her every move through his squinted eyes, however he knew in order to make it look realistic, he had to go under water. So he did and in the water below, he pictured Carolyn rescuing him and kissing him…. uh, I mean… doing CPR. Jonah had been knocked out — he really drowned himself without realizing it. The hot and heavy daydream about Carolyn saving him made him forget to come up for air. By the time Jonah work up, he saw seaweed piled in heaps in various spots on the beach. There were no children and broken shells lined the water line which was filled with debris.

Carolyn spoke with such elegance. This was the first time Jonah heard her speak. “Your heart stopped beating and I had to do CPR on you.The ambulance is on its way so hang in there, okay.”

Carolyn giggled. “I know,” she said, “before you woke up you were mumbling to yourself. I know everything. All about your crush, all about your fake drowning attempt.”

7 thoughts on “ How to Write a Beach Scene ”

this really helped my grades thank’s

You’re welcome Claudia. Spread the word, fellow writer! 🙂

This is good but sadly not what I need rn

Hello :P, can you give us an idea of what you were looking for?

This helped me a lot . Thank you . can you help me with the picture description please

i love this website it helped me so much

This is a really good website, thank you!

The description of your short-term rental serves as a business card for all those potential customers who visit your website or listing in search of the perfect vacation rental.

Don’t see the form to download our Vacation Rental Description Template? Click here .

It’s essential to make a good first impression; this will give you the opportunity to immediately establish a relationship of trust with the potential guest and convince them to continue their buyer journey on your listing or website.

Some years ago now, industry specialist Matt Landau conducted an experiment on the well-known free advertising site Craigslist using two different descriptions for the same property. The conclusions he drew remain very much relevant to the market today: modern travelers prefer well-written, creative and informative content when it comes to choosing their vacation rental.

But how can you write a captivating vacation rental description? Here are our top tips for writing vacation rental listing descriptions that will help generate more inquiries on your listing or website.

1. Appeal to your audience

The main task at hand here is to use vocabulary that will convince the right guests to book your place, so before you even begin planning to write your vacation rental descriptions, think carefully about who your target audience is.

Depending on whether your audience is millennials, young families or retired couples, your content will require different language choices.

Start by putting yourself in your audience’s shoes and think about what details would really entice you, and use this to your advantage. Is it the quirky poolside cabana or the child-friendly picnic area in the backyard?

vacation rental description appealing to an audience

Whoever your audience, remember to always keep the focus on them.

2. Answer their questions before they ask

Think about all of the questions your potential guests may have and include your answers to your description. Some examples of the most common guest questions are:

Do you have any public transportation near your property? How far is it from the nearest train or subway station or bus stop?
Do you have any shops near the vicinity to buy any essentials?
What bed sizes do you have in your rooms? (so they can fairly estimate how many people the place can accommodate)
Are pets allowed in your property?
Are they allowed to party? If so, what do they need to keep a note of? (e.g. noise level, condo rules, house rules for parties, etc.)

Try to give clear answers to these questions and remember to be honest! You don’t want to give the guests a surprise that might not align with their plans.

vacation rental description featuring USPs

3. Establish your tone

Airbnb tells its users to ‘ write how you talk ‘ and we couldn’t agree more. Many vacation rental owners make the mistake of thinking that professional means formal when it comes to writing. But think about it: Your website is the first point of contact potential bookers have with your vacation rental, so conveying your personality as a host is a must. It can easily be achieved through the tone of your writing.

Try to write your listing descriptions as though you’re describing your property to a friend – you’ll capture an informal yet excited tone that will draw your reader in. Just be sure to keep it consistent throughout.

vacation rental description using your tone

4. Make sure your Unique Selling Proposition (USP) is actually unique

Everyone knows the vacation rental industry is growing bigger and bigger each week, so the only way to win more bookings is by creating standout content that obliterates any chance of competition. Just kidding! Well, kind of not really…

Your listing descriptions are the best chance you have as a business to show off exactly what makes your property a knockout, so you should focus on what your home boasts that no one else around you has.

We can’t emphasize enough that your unique selling points should be exclusive to your vacation rental, so don’t be afraid to research your competition to familiarize yourself.

There’s no need to rush your decision. Once you’ve worked out what your USPs are, weave the rest of your property description around these aspects. Whether that’s in your introduction or as headers to break up the content. Guests will love that you’ve taken the time to deliberately include certain things, especially when they’re weighing up their own decision themselves.

5. Succeed through storytelling

Don’t fall into the trap of thinking it’s enough to attract guests with a long list of all the amenities your property offers. Instead, aim to allure viewers with a carefully composed story of what their vacation will be like at your home.

Use active verbs and avoid cliché adjectives to provide the reader with the most vivid image of their stay, and pair up your story with some high-quality images.

You can really imagine what it’s like to stay somewhere when the website paints a descriptive picture, and this is exactly what helped Matt Landau double his listing views and triple his inquiry rate.

6. Highlight your amenities, services or unique extras

Go the extra mile to stand out from the competitors in your area by mentioning everything and anything that makes your property unique.

vacation rental description highlighting amenities

We’ve written a guide on the “ 45 Must-Have Amenities for Every Vacation Rental Home ” but some relatively easy and cheap amenities you can offer are:

Breakfast and snacks
Playing cards, board games and books
Transportation cards to help your guests go around
iPhone and Android chargers
If you have a bathtub, you can leave bath bombs or fragrance oils

7. Keep it short and sweet

Experts predicted that by 2016, 73% of Americans would use a mobile device to research their vacation options. Bear this in mind when you’re writing your vacation rental listing descriptions, as this trend is only increasing. It’s best to write in short, succinct sentences that readers can quickly flick through on their mobile devices.

There are many ways you can organize your website’s content into easy-to-digest chunks which will also have a positive effect on your search engine rankings – our expert guide to vacation rental on-page optimization can help with this.

8. Stick to specifics

It’s so easy to get carried away writing about the area as a whole because of course, you love the place! Just remember there’s no need to preach to the converted as your site visitors are already looking for a property in your city or town, so think back to what will set you apart from your competitors.

You might not be the only vacation rental in a few kilometer radii that’s a five-minute walk to the beach or a 10-minute drive to the mountains. But you can be the vacation rental around that knows where to spot wildlife, how great the sunset is from that spot up on the hill that tourists don’t usually know about, or who recommends the best places to eat local cuisine.

Always focus on the specifics – they will be your key to winning over more direct bookings.

9. Don’t forget to include a clear call to action

This is something you don’t usually see on most vacation rental descriptions, even if they can make a huge difference and help turn lookers into bookers.

vacation rental description call to action

If a potential guest reads through your description until the end, it may mean that they’re interested in booking it. Here are some examples that you can play with:

“You won’t find any other place like this.”
“Our calendar is filling in quite fast so be sure to book right away to guarantee a reservation!”
“We’d love to host you and your family so I’ll be waiting for an inquiry from you and we can start discussing some more details from there.”

10. Advertising words to avoid

In the same way that there are words that help your vacation rental stand out from the crowd, there are definitely some terms you’ll want to steer clear of. Avoid these marketing words: “TLC”, “cosmetic”, “bargain”, “nice” or “must-see”. If you’d like to keep your description short, you can cut down on mentioning your property’s main stats, like square footage and a number of bedrooms, since those data points are displayed in a different part of your listing, anyway.

To conclude, here’s some expert advice from James Woolley, Director of Totalstay :

“Property listings are all too often hastily put together or treated as a last-minute task. The description of your property however is just as important as the photographs you use.

A well-written listing has the power to help guests visualize a stay at your holiday rental. Spelling mistakes, unimaginative descriptions, overly long listings and over-exaggeration about the features your property offers can all negatively affect your rental marketing efforts.

If hiring a professional copywriter (or, better yet, a dedicated holiday rental manager) is not possible, get someone to proof-read your listings before they are published on your website. This can go a long way in making sure that your listings are free of errors and geared towards your ideal guest.”

Vacation rental descriptions during/after the COVID-19

It’s important to make sure that your descriptions don’t encourage guests to ignore applicable health or travel advisories, have gatherings that violate health restrictions, promises guests that your properties haven’t been exposed to COVID-19, or mentions that your listing is COVID-free. OTAs like Airbnb have updated their content policies and have reported that listings that fail to comply with these guidelines may be removed from their websites.

However, as long as you comply with these policies, there are still some things you can include in your descriptions like:

Self-check-in / No-contact check-in services
Cleaning protocols and steps you’re taking to disinfect your property
Include words like “Clean”, “Safe”, “Enhanced cleaning” or “Sanitized” (but never COVID-free or anything like it)

Vacation rental description examples (PDF)

Since we know how complicated it can be (especially for those less accustomed to writing) to write a description for your vacation rental, we’ve created a downloadable template that includes a list of power words you can use for your descriptions, a list of vacation rental description examples and a template to guide you through the process.

You can download it for free by entering your email below and you will receive it in a few minutes in your inbox!

Have you followed our tips and seen an increase in inquiries? We’d love to hear from you! If you’re still struggling to write your own vacation rental listing descriptions? Why not hire someone else to do it for you. Check out our guide to finding freelance copywriters .

looking forward to viewing your templet.

Hi Elaine, We’ve just sent the PDF to your email. Hope it helps! 🙂

Great tips, thanks. Setting the right tone is a tough one, want to be positive (we have a really special place) but without exaggerating. Not easy!

Ready to take more direct bookings?

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Unleashing Creativity: Inspiring Beach Story Ideas for Every Writer

By: Author Valerie Forgeard

Posted on Published: June 8, 2023 - Last updated: July 1, 2023

Categories Travel

Whether you’re a writer seeking inspiration or an individual looking to create engaging social media content, the beach offers many captivating story ideas.

The ocean’s vast expanse, the rhythmic lull of the waves, and the varied characters that a beach attracts all contribute to an intriguing narrative landscape.

The possibilities are endless, from heartwarming tales of summer romance to thrilling adventures of beachside mysteries.

The beach can also be a transformation, discovery, or conflict setting. It’s a canvas where human experiences intermingle with nature’s drama, offering a rich tapestry of story ideas waiting to be woven.

Sun-Kissed Romance: A Love Story

It’s hard not to fall in love when surrounded by sun-kissed sands and magical sunsets at the beach. The warm salty breeze caresses your skin while the rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore lulls you into blissful relaxation.

You find yourself swept up in a whirlwind romance with another vacationer as if fate has brought you together under this enchanting seaside spell. Star-crossed vacationers, destined to meet on this slice of paradise, embark on a journey neither one ever expected.

As days turn into nights and the full moon casts its silvery glow upon the shimmering waters, your beachside heartbreak seems like a distant memory. You wonder if this newfound love is simply an ephemeral encounter or something meant to last beyond your time spent basking in the golden sun and frolicking in turquoise waves.

Long walks along the shoreline leave footprints that tides will eventually wash away but also mark indelible memories etched into your soul.

The inevitable departure looms closer as the sand slips through your fingers like fleeting moments shared with your summer love interest. As suitcases are packed, and goodbyes linger on tear-streaked faces, you hold onto the hope that serendipity might bring you back together again under different circumstances.

And though there may not be any promises made or grand declarations exchanged, it’s undeniable that what began as a chance meeting on sun-drenched sands has left an indelible impact on both hearts involved – proving that sometimes, even temporary connections can shape our lives forevermore.

Mysterious Treasure Hunt on the Shore

You won’t believe that around 95% of lost treasures remain undiscovered, and our tale takes you on a thrilling treasure hunt adventure along the shore! Picture yourself exploring hidden coves and unearthing coastal folklore tales that hold the key to a long-forgotten bounty. As you venture further, the salty breeze caresses your face and whispers secrets of pirates, shipwrecks, and buried wealth waiting to be uncovered.

The sense of freedom as you navigate through these mystical shores is intoxicating. Each step closer to unearthing the treasure further fuels your desire for adventure. With every clue deciphered and each piece of ancient lore unraveled, you are reminded that life is meant for exploration – both within ourselves and in the world around us. The shoreline morphs from an ordinary stretch of sand into an exhilarating playground where imagination runs wild.

As your journey along this enigmatic coast reaches its climax, you can’t help but feel a deep connection with those who have walked these shores before you – pirates seeking refuge in hidden coves or explorers chasing their dreams across vast oceans. This mysterious treasure hunt on the shore has provided thrills and revealed priceless lessons about freedom, discovery, and embracing life’s boundless possibilities. And who knows? Perhaps one day soon, your own story will inspire others to embark on their own adventures in search of hidden treasures yet to be discovered.

A Family’s Seaside Reunion

There’s nothing quite like a family seaside reunion to create lasting memories and strengthen bonds among loved ones. As you gather with your family on the sun-kissed shores, you can’t help but feel a sense of freedom and joy.

This enchanting setting becomes the perfect backdrop for shared adventures, laughter, and new experiences that will be cherished for years.

Coastal cuisine exploration : The salty sea air awakens your taste buds as you embark on a culinary journey with your family. From sampling the day’s catch at local seafood shacks to sharing stories over a delicious beach picnic, there is something incredibly satisfying about savoring coastal delicacies while immersed in the shoreline’s natural beauty.
Beachside wildlife encounters : Nothing brings families closer than exploring nature together, and at the beach, you’re bound to encounter fascinating wildlife. Watch for playful dolphins dancing in the waves or marveling at majestic sea turtles nesting along sandy dunes; these moments will create unforgettable memories.
Building sandcastles and reminiscing : Working together as a team to build elaborate sandcastles not only sparks creativity but also inspires conversations about past vacations and cherished childhood memories—allowing both young and old to connect on a deeper level.

As you watch another breathtaking sunset paint the sky above your family’s seaside reunion, it becomes evident that this gathering has been more than just an enjoyable vacation—it has been an opportunity for everyone involved to reconnect amidst life’s hectic pace truly.

The combination of coastal cuisine exploration, beachside wildlife encounters, and heartwarming moments spent building sandcastles allows each person present to leave with their souls rejuvenated—and perhaps even feeling freer than when they arrived.

The Secret Beachside Hideaway

Finding a secret beachside hideaway isn’t easy, but once you do, it becomes your paradise that you’re almost reluctant to share with others. The thrill of coastal hideout exploration is the perfect way to satisfy your subconscious desire for freedom. Imagine stumbling upon a secluded cove with pristine sands and crystal-clear waters, hidden from the world by towering cliffs and lush vegetation – this is where you’ll find the most exquisite secluded beach wonders.

As you explore this idyllic sanctuary, take note of its fascinating features:

The exhilarating sense of discovery when uncovering these unique characteristics will make your secret beachside hideaway all the more special and memorable. Allow yourself to be immersed in its tranquil atmosphere, marvel at the vibrant marine life beneath gentle waves, or lay back on silky-soft sands as warm breezes embrace you.

As the sun sets over your private oasis, painting the sky in brilliant hues of orange and pink, pause for a moment to appreciate how rare and precious such an escape truly is.

Cherish each second spent within these hallowed grounds, knowing they offer unparalleled solace amidst life’s chaos. In time, you may even confide in a trusted few about your seaside haven – after all, some secrets are too beautiful not to share.

Oceanfront Adventures: Surfing and Beyond

Imagine yourself standing on a surfboard, riding the crest of a wave with the salty sea spray misting your face and the sun warming your back. The adrenaline pumps through you as you carve along the water’s surface, feeling at one with the ocean’s energy.

However, there is so much more than just surfing to these coastal exploits; from ocean exploration and marine wildlife encounters to beachside bonfires and shoreline strolls, these adventures can soothe your soul, inspire creativity, and ignite your inner explorer.

As you venture beneath the waves during an immersive snorkeling or scuba diving experience, observe firsthand how vast and diverse our underwater world is. Swim alongside schools of vibrant fish that dart playfully around coral reefs teeming with life. Glide above manta rays as they effortlessly cruise across sandy seabeds, or hold your breath in awe while watching dolphins frolic nearby.

This unique opportunity for ocean exploration will allow you to gain a deeper appreciation for our planet’s most incredible ecosystem – all while providing endless inspiration for future stories.

When it comes time to wind down after an action-packed day on (or under) the water, nothing beats relaxing on a soft sandy beach with loved ones. Watch as brilliant hues paint the sky during sunset before giving way to a mesmerizing blanket of stars overhead – perhaps even sparking thoughts about cosmic tales waiting to be told!

As firelight flickers against smiling faces gathered around crackling beach bonfires, let laughter fill the air while sharing tales inspired by your many oceanfront adventures. Allow this experience to fuel your writing and create lifelong memories that spur dreams of boundless freedom and endless possibilities within life and literature.

A Coastal Town’s Secret History

Unraveling a coastal town’s secret history can unveil hidden treasures, where weathered lighthouses stand sentinel over ancient shipwrecks, symbolizing the passage of time and the mysteries beneath the waves.

As you explore this charming seaside locale, dig deeper into its past by seeking out local historians and storytellers who spin tales of coastal folklore and forgotten legends. The salty air whispers about pirate adventures lost civilizations, and untold riches waiting to be discovered.

Listen to captivating stories about mythical creatures said to inhabit the depths or long-lost cities swallowed by the sea. These enchanting tales blend fact with fiction but always contain a grain of truth that sparks your imagination and fuels your desire for freedom.

Venture off the beaten path to discover secret underground passages leading to hidden coves or mysterious grottos carved into towering cliffs. These natural wonders have been sculpted by centuries of relentless waves crashing against the shoreline, their secrets waiting patiently for intrepid explorers like yourself.

Dive beneath the surface to explore sunken vessels from centuries past, each holding clues about life in this coastal town throughout history. These underwater time capsules connect us with our maritime roots while reminding us of nature’s unforgiving power.

As you explore this enigmatic coastal town, remember that every discovery is an opportunity for personal growth and a symbolic reminder of life’s ever-changing tides.

Healing by the Sea: A Journey of Self-Discovery

As you embark on this transformative journey by the sea, let the soothing rhythm of the waves and the salty breeze guide your path toward inner healing and self-discovery. Allow yourself to fully immerse in oceanic meditation as you walk along the shoreline, feeling the sand beneath your toes. The serene landscape before you is a canvas painted with vibrant colors and breathtaking beauty that inspires introspection and personal growth.

The sun sets over this coastal haven, casting a warm glow upon everything it touches.

As day turns to night, allow yourself to reflect on all you’ve experienced here, recognizing the profound impact of reconnecting with nature through its most powerful element – water. Your heart is lighter, your mind is clearer, and you are one step closer to embracing a newfound sense of freedom that will continue to guide you long after you’ve left these shores behind.

The Lighthouse Keeper’s Tale

In the shadow of the towering lighthouse, you find solace in the keeper’s tale, a poignant juxtaposition of isolation and connection that resonates within your soul.

As waves crash against the rocky shore below, you listen to stories of how the keeper’s solitude was his confidant and tormentor as he watched over this outpost at sea.

The whispers of a lighthouse ghost linger in your thoughts, a specter born from loneliness and longing for human contact – yet also an intriguing reminder that even in seclusion, one is never truly alone.

You’re captivated by the vivid descriptions of sunrises painting the sky with fiery hues and moonlit nights casting silvery reflections on undulating waves.

The beauty in nature’s embrace offers respite from life’s chaos while fueling an insatiable desire for freedom beyond these walls.

The constant rhythm of crashing waves becomes a soothing balm to soothe any lingering unease; their sheer power evoking awe and respect for nature’s unrelenting force.

Through this narrative journey, you understand how living on such a precipice can intensify feelings of insignificance and purpose – each day reminding you that life is fragile but filled with boundless possibilities.

As your time at this remote sanctuary ends, you can’t help but feel changed by your encounter with the lighthouse keeper’s tale.

It’s given voice to your yearning for freedom while illuminating paths toward self-discovery hidden along windswept shores and beneath stormy skies.

You no longer see isolation as merely confinement or detachment; instead, it’s become an opportunity to forge deeper connections with oneself and others around us – like beacons guiding us through the darkness towards our truest selves.

Tropical Island Escapades

You’ll immerse yourself in tropical island escapades, where the vibrant hues of lush foliage and crystal-clear waters invite adventure and discovery. Island wildlife thrives in this haven, allowing you to observe rare species and delicate ecosystems that exist nowhere else on Earth.

The air is filled with the sweet aroma of exotic flowers as you walk along pristine beaches, your senses heightened by the sights and sounds of this idyllic paradise. Underwater exploration opens up a new world beneath the waves, teeming with colorful marine life that will leave you breathless.

Dive into this aquatic playground where schools of the iridescent fish dart through coral reefs like living jewels while sea turtles glide gracefully overhead. Descending deeper into the depths, you encounter mysterious caves and underwater caverns with secrets waiting to be uncovered.

This magical underwater realm invites curiosity and wonders at every turn. As your journey continues, each day offers fresh experiences that awaken your spirit of adventure. Whether navigating winding trails through dense jungles or snorkeling alongside playful dolphins in warm tropical waters, these unforgettable moments instill a sense of freedom deep within your soul.

Secrets Buried Beneath the Sand

It’s impossible not to feel like Indiana Jones when uncovering secrets buried beneath the sand on these tropical islands, where millennia-old treasures and forgotten tales lie hidden just below your sun-kissed toes. As you explore these pristine shores, you’ll stumble upon ancient coastal curses whispered by the locals and marvel at hidden sand sculptures crafted by nature herself.

Each discovery will evoke a sense of wonder and mystery as you delve deeper into the island’s enigmatic past. A mysterious shipwreck emerges from the depths during low tide, telling stories of pirates long gone.

Ancient symbols etched in stone spark your curiosity about the civilization that once thrived here—the skeletal remains of a sea creature fuel legends of mythical beasts that once roamed these waters.

An eerie silence surrounds an abandoned lighthouse, making you wonder what happened to its keepers—a weathered message in a bottle washes ashore, hinting at lost love or adventure from another time.

As you continue to unearth these astonishing finds nestled within the landscape, it becomes clear that this tropical paradise is steeped in history and mystique. Your adventurous spirit drives you to push boundaries further than ever, seeking answers to questions sparked by your discoveries.

A Marine Biologist’s Underwater Discoveries

As a marine biologist, you’re constantly amazed by the underwater discoveries that await beneath the ocean’s surface in this tropical paradise. Each dive immerses you in a world brimming with life and color, teeming with creatures both familiar and alien to your eyes. Your work focuses on coral reef conservation and deep sea exploration, two fields with endless potential for unlocking the secrets of our planet’s oceans.

Your dives take you through vibrant coral reefs where each observation feels like a treasure trove of new information. You witness fascinating symbiotic relationships between organisms, observe rare species in their natural habitats, and document the delicate balance needed to maintain these complex ecosystems. As you venture deeper into the abyss during your deep sea explorations, you encounter otherworldly creatures adapted to an environment devoid of sunlight – bioluminescent beings glowing with an ethereal light that evokes an insatiable curiosity within you.

Through your work as a marine biologist, not only do you uncover hidden wonders beneath the waves but also ignite in others a desire for freedom – freedom from ignorance about our vast oceans’ mysteries and freedom to explore those uncharted depths themselves. By sharing your knowledge about coral reef conservation efforts or shedding light on newly discovered deep-sea creatures, you inspire people to connect with nature at its most enigmatic level. This connection fosters an understanding that we are all part of something much larger than ourselves – a breathtaking blue planet waiting to be explored further.

The Legend of the Lost Shipwreck

As you dive deeper into the world of beaches and ocean mysteries, you can’t help but be captivated by the legend of lost shipwrecks. Maritime legends are filled with tales of sunken treasure, ghost ships, and underwater worlds waiting to be explored. The lore surrounding these lost shipwrecks is often shrouded in mystery, as many have never been found, or their true stories remain untold.

The allure of these maritime legends lies in their sense of adventure, allowing you to imagine yourself embarking on an exciting quest to uncover hidden secrets beneath the waves. Some popular tales from lost shipwreck lore include:

The Nuestra Señora de Atocha : A Spanish galleon that sank off the coast of Florida in 1622 carrying a fortune in gold, silver, and precious gems.
The Whydah Gally : An infamous pirate ship that went down during a fierce storm near Cape Cod in 1717.
The SS Central America : Known as the ‘Ship of Gold,’ this steamship sank during a hurricane while transporting tons of gold from California to New York City in 1857.
Atlantis : Perhaps less grounded in reality than other maritime legends but no less captivating – this mythical island is said to have sunk beneath the sea after falling out of favor with its gods.

As you immerse yourself further into these enthralling tales and explore more about maritime history, it’s hard not to feel drawn toward discovering your sunken treasures. After all, each story holds a promise of riches and freedom – whether it’s through escaping modern-day constraints or seeking adventure on uncharted waters.

The Beach House: A Haunting Mystery

You’ll find yourself captivated by the haunting mystery of the beach house, where secrets lurk in every shadow and whispers of a ghostly past echo through its halls.

Ghostly encounters become more frequent as you explore each room, unveiling stories that have been hidden for decades.

The salty ocean air doesn’t do much to dispel the chill running down your spine as you delve deeper into this enigmatic home, determined to uncover its dark history.

As you conduct your paranormal investigations, you may stumble upon curious artifacts and unsettling photographs left behind by previous inhabitants.

Discovering these remnants of lives once lived brings a thrilling sense of adventure mingled with growing unease.

The house seems to possess an eerie intelligence, reacting to your presence with unexplained sounds and shifting shadows that make it difficult to distinguish reality from the supernatural.

Despite the unnerving atmosphere, you can’t help but feel drawn toward the freedom offered by unraveling this twisted tale.

Each discovery propels you further into the heart of the mystery – guided by an insatiable curiosity to unearth what lies beneath this otherworldly façade.

As waves crash against sandy shores beyond the walls of this haunted abode, your determination swells like a rising tide – driven forward by both fear and fascination on this unforgettable journey into the unknown.

Sandy Footprints: Stories of Friendship by the Sea

There’s nothing quite like the magic of seaside friendships and the sun-kissed memories they create. Beach bonfires, laughter echoing along the shoreline, and long talks while waves crash at your feet all weave together to form a tapestry of unforgettable moments. Seaside friendships often have a unique quality, as if the salt in the air and sand between your toes somehow bind you together more tightly than any other bond.

As you walk hand-in-hand with your beach friends, exploring hidden coves or building sandcastles fit for royalty, each shared experience strengthens those seaside connections. The sunsets that paint the sky in brilliant hues become a backdrop for dancing barefoot on the shore or simply sitting side by side quietly, sharing dreams and secrets with someone who understands you completely. And when night falls, beach bonfires light up the darkness as friends gather around to roast marshmallows, share stories from days gone by, and sing their hearts out under a canopy of stars.

The beauty of these sandy footprints is not just in how they mark our journey through life but also in how they remind us of true freedom – to be unencumbered by worries and fully present with those we love most.

So whether it’s watching dolphins play in the surf or racing against time to save one last sand dollar before high tide sweeps it away – every moment spent beside our seaside friends is an opportunity to cherish life’s simple joys.

The Seashell Collector’s Magical Finds

Imagine the enchantment of discovering a magical seashell amidst your collection, one that holds within it the secrets and whispers of the ocean’s depths.

Picture yourself strolling along a mystical beach, where each step reveals another enchanted seashell in the sand just waiting to be discovered.

As you collect these unique treasures, you can’t help but feel a connection to the vast, untamed expanse of water before you – as though each shell is trying to impart its tale of life beneath the waves.

The sun sets on this ethereal shoreline as you continue your quest for more extraordinary finds.

You come across shells with intricate patterns and colors that defy nature’s palette – some shimmering like precious gems while others appear translucent, allowing sunlight to filter through their delicate surfaces.

Each shell seems imbued with an otherworldly essence; perhaps they are remnants from ancient underwater civilizations or gifts bestowed upon us by benevolent sea spirits. Regardless of their origins, these enchanted seashells serve as talismans connecting us to our deepest desires for freedom and exploration.

As night falls on this mystical beach and stars begin to blanket the sky, you realize that your collection has become more than just a hobby – it has become an embodiment of your inner wanderlust and desire for escape from mundanity.

With your pockets brimming with iridescent wonders, you return home feeling transformed by your experience at this magical seaside haven.

And every time you gaze upon these wondrous tokens from your adventure – whether they sit proudly displayed on shelves or rest secretly hidden away in drawers – they will forever remind you of that remarkable journey and inspire dreams of future explorations beyond the horizon’s edge.

Frequently Asked Questions

What are some basic beach story ideas.

Beach stories range from light-hearted tales of summer romance or family vacations to more intense narratives like beachside mysteries or survival adventures. The beach can serve as a backdrop for self-discovery, friendship, environmental awareness, or supernatural tales.

How can I make my beach story unique?

Think beyond the clichés. Consider focusing on the locals’ perspective instead of tourists’, incorporating beach-specific activities like surfing or beach clean-up, or exploring the off-season life of a beach town. Experiment with various narrative techniques, unique characters, and unexpected plot twists.

Can beach stories be more than romantic tales?

Absolutely! While beach settings are popular for romance, they can also serve as a backdrop for numerous other genres. Think suspense with a beachside thriller, adventure with a deep-sea treasure hunt, or drama with a story of environmental activism.

How can I accurately depict the beach setting in my story?

Immerse yourself in the environment. Take note of the sensory details—the smell of the ocean, the sound of waves, the feeling of sand underfoot. Research the beach’s local flora, fauna, and culture. Make the setting an active part of your narrative.

How can I use the beach setting to enhance my story’s theme?

The beach can symbolize various themes—freedom, transformation, the passage of time, the force of nature, etc. Use these elements to enhance your story’s underlying message. For instance, the cyclic nature of tides can mirror a character’s personal growth, or the shifting sands can symbolize instability or change.

Descriptive Essay about the Beach, How to Guide, Examples

Published by gudwriter on January 4, 2021 January 4, 2021

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Descriptive Essay about the Beach

A descriptive essay about the beach is one of the write ups you may be required to come up with in your English learning courses. It’s about giving a vivid depiction of your encounters at the seashore. In our previous post about how to write a descriptive essay, we explained the need for students to paint the picture of the object in the readers mind. The main objective is to make the audience feel as if they were involved in the experience. Read on essays based on different types parenting style samples.

This kind of writing will inspire you to explore your linguistic prowess as well as imagination. The success is achieved if your audience resonates with your words. To make this possible, you need to have ‘thoughts that glow’ as well as ‘words that flow’.

If you’re required to write a descriptive essay about the beach, there are things you should put to consideration. This post is all about helping you get a grade A in such an assignment.

Tips on Writing the Best Descriptive Essay

Have experience about the beach. It’s critical that you get conversant with what you are writing about. If you haven’t visited the seashore, try reading widely about the experience. Or, grab a documentary movie.
Keep your statements clear and concise. Vague information may not only be confusing but also boring.
Describe every aspect of the beach. Write about the weather, water, soil, sound, smell, sky, horizon, sun, flora and fauna. You can also talk about the people at the beach. Don’t forget your feelings.
Have a logical organization. You can choose to pick a theme for every paragraph. Or, you can keep a chronological flow. Also, be sure to have an introduction and conclusion paragraph.
Remember to review your work after writing.

Free Descriptive Essay Samples About the Beach

Last summer, I had the chance to visit my aunt at her coastal home. The octogenarian , I have to admit, lives in one of the world’s most serene places. The beach is a fantastic phenomenon and the fun that comes along with it is overwhelming. Two weeks into the visit, my cousins took me to the seashore, and I just couldn’t get enough of it. I fell in love with the splashing waters and cool breeze. I hated that evening would come and we’d have to leave the blissful sensation of the beach. I nonetheless promised myself to make the most out of the short time we would spend there.

We set out early in the morning with our cameras and light shorts. A light breeze blew and it took my soul with it. I felt like I was in a whole new world. The wind brought fresh air to my nostrils and I just couldn’t help but pump as much as I could. It not only filled my lungs with rejuvenating oxygen, but also my mind with a hope of having the best day of my life. My ears weren’t left behind either. It’s like the fresh air was singing melodious blues as we walked. I was sure experiencing something I’d never experienced before.

We arrived on our scooter right on time for the rising sun. Never in my life had I seen such a majestic view. We’d left home early on right before the sun would mark its territories. And, apparently, our cameras were getting the best work they’d had for years. Towards the east, the sky was literally burning. The first rays were already throwing their warmth across the sky. They were doing just like cheerleaders would do during an NFA match. Or, better still, like the escort guards from the Secret Service do before the Head of State arrives.

The rays did their job pretty fine. They were yellow and glittered like the flames of an enormous camping bonfire! While the sky was showing its beauty, the sea was glittering and reflecting back. It was as if they were partners colluding to welcome a big guest. The yellow glare made our photography interesting and every shot was worth it.

The sun finally hit the surface. The ground acknowledged its presence and started glittering. The tiny sand particles shed silver lights all over the beach. The sweet rays caressed my skin and I now understood why everyone at the seashore liked to expose theirs. It was a gentle warmth, I have to say!

My excitement was rejuvenated. But I couldn’t possibly beat the birds. They shouted with a wild joy. They jumped up and down. I saw several of them chase after sea creatures. It was marvelous watching the birds dive into the water and suddenly shoot up into the sky like rockets. No sooner had we joined them into the diving than people started coming out of their homes. The shore was flocked now. Some came for entertainment while others were looking for fishing grounds. It was a beehive of activities I tell you.

When evening came, it was yet another scenery in the sky as the sun dived into horizons of the sea. People started going back to their homes and the birds gradually became silent. The evening breeze blew, bringing another refreshing smell of the salty water to my nostrils. Waves of water splashed onto the coral reefs as the tides took new positions. The fishermen set out their nets as if their day was just beginning. Suddenly, my aunt was calling. She knew we were having too much fun, and that we’d possibly get late.

Explore a descriptive essay sample about a person written by our team of experts.

Sample 2: A Day at the Beach

We arrive at the seashore at day break. Bright yellow rays of the sun greet us. Their golden mien reflects on the surface of the water. The sun – the main guest – hasn’t arrived yet, but the beach is well lit already. The blue cloudless sky is overly yellow towards the east, which alerts that the sun will be ruling the day beginning soon. A breeze blows by, filled with a refreshing smell of the salty sea water. It gets me reminiscing about my childhood. I get nostalgic of molding magnificence with the sea sand. But today is another day altogether. I’m far older, with a wife, a son, and a daughter. Today is their day. I am just a companion.

The sun is now in full control of the seashore and its effects can be felt by everyone. It’s warm, and the air is filled with moisture from the sea. The ground is mildly warm, and the fine sand particles are glittering like scattered pieces of silver. I can’t help but keep getting strands of my hair off my sight as the wind blows them wildly. My wife’s case is more serious. But she looks gorgeous at the beach and seeing her playing with my kids makes me feel how quick I’ve grown and transformed. I look back at my childhood with a reassuring gaze as I watch my two bundles of joy run alongside their mother in the warm sand at the shore.

The birds stop singing now. Their entertainment about the new day is gone and they are focused on food search. It’s fun to watch them jump into the water, capture crabs and fishes, before darting into the air at electric speeds, like shooting stars.

My son is dying to swim. I know this side of the ocean isn’t crocodile- or shark-infested, but I still want to be sure. I remember that as young boys, we were so fond of swimming until when one day we saw a scary scaly rock moving on the water. It looked like a submarine that kept emerging and submerging. One boy yelled after he recognized it was a baby crocodile. I just feared reptiles and he saved us from what would be an end of an era for us. After confirming that it is safe to swim, I allow my kids to swim on one of the shallow waters around us.

I notice I am not the only one who cares about my children. A few yards away, a kingfisher is already teaching her chicks how to get food. They descend from the palm tree at the edge of the sea. The baby kingfisher can’t swim but her mum is doing all she can to offer the help. I also take a snap of a school of dolphins. They are far from the beach but with the help of my binoculars, my wife and I enjoy the glamor of seeing them jump up and take dives as they chase a boat.

It’s evening now. My family is happy that they have had as much fun as they’d hoped for. We’ve already eaten roasted fish from the lake for lunch. The beach, flocked with swimmers and sunbathers a few moments ago, is now getting less busy. Fishermen are starting their night shifts. The sun is already diving into the horizon of the water, leaving behind a huge yellow light. Birds start to sing again. It’s time for me to drive my family back home.

The beach is the place I go to whenever I need to relax and forget about all the hustles of life and just enjoy myself. As usual, my last visit to there was a memorable one. Already in my beach attire, a draught blew across the sea sweeping away with it my spirit. The sun split its way through the scattered cumulus clouds as if it was shying away from giving some light. As I took in a breath of fresh air, my nose was tingled by the smell of the salty sea. A mine field of corals made up the beach sand, with an abundance of multicolored sea shells. A bed of blankets was however formed by the sand at the same time. Like my previous visit, this visit was promising to be one filled with immense joy and relaxation.

My heart somehow pounded like a drum-set of an orchestra from the way the beach sand flowed onto my feet and tickled my toes. The feeling was delicate especially given that the sand grains were so fine it was almost impossible to see them through the human eye. The sea waves soothed me through a dulcet lullaby thus drawing me closer to them as I reminisced my childhood. It was like they were giving me an invitation with wide open arms. However, my feet would not oblige at this time because they were penetrated by the frigid waves. So, I just sat down with my head raised to the sky as I watched the sun stretch out and make its way across the sky.

The warm sun rays gradually glowed as minutes passed by, reaching down to me and giving me a shining streak of light as if to tell me, “Hey, hold my hand!” I received an immediate boost of excitement as the blazing light pierced through my cold skin. Tracing its way up the sky, the sun distributed its light to everything it could lay its sight on. Birds flying across the sky trying to claim it for themselves were singing sweet melodies with high spirits into my ears. From the sun rays, the sky turned into an illuminated shimmering blue color from a dark misty indigo one. The scattered rainless clouds that were initially blocking sun rays melted away into thin air and gave way for the water to heat up.

I slowly made my way to the edge of the beach once again and immersed my toe into the now swiftly heating up water. I hastily withdrew it as it felt like it was melting away into the sea in spite of having been numb before. The pungent smell that came from decayed algae filled the air and my acidic stomach responded by turning to its side. I could hear the sounds of fish that were possibly calling for attention from under the sea. I could at the same time tell that the fish were afraid of the sea creatures that were hungrily preying on smaller water creatures for lunch. This was a survival tactic, I could tell.

As the evening was drawing, people poured onto the beach to enjoy the serenity and perfect weather. Children ran up and down as laughter filled up every corner of the beach and people even played beach football and volleyball. The day was finally coming to an end and one by one, people started leaving slowly after what had been a day full of excitement. It was unfortunate that as much as I had wanted to continue staying on the beach and continue undergoing this memorable experience, my turn to go home finally came. I left with a heart filled with happiness and peace and a tired body and promised myself that I would go back there as many times as I would be able to.

Instructions; Write an essay of 2 double-spaced pages which achieves two goals:

Discuss what your ideal beach might look like. What would your ideal beach look like? What elements would it include? Consider things such as the physical environment, the social atmosphere, the socio-cultural composition, availability of services, population (or absence thereof), quality of the water or surf, location, climate, political composition, language, ethnicity, or any other quality you might consider important. Answered on top

Some ideas for THEME. This is a suggestive list.

Design your ideal beach. This beach might draw on elements of existing beaches or be entirely fictional.

Explore some of the interesting descriptive topics that wll give you brilliant ideas.

Essay about the Beach

Diamond beach is what most people would call “a little paradise or a piece of heaven on earth.” The spectacular, flawless white beach stretches with no limit for the eye as it goes across the ocean so amazingly. Just by gazing at the endless sands, as the sun’s rays rest on the waters freshly emerging from their resting place, anyone would be astounded by the beauty of nature. The clouds timidly exposed as the sky beams blue making it obvious that this would be a beautiful day. It is not hard to hear the ocean whisper its promises for the day due to the serenity of diamond, as the graceful sounds of songbirds light up the morning mood. The reigning feeling is that of a soothing calmness that makes life difficult for an iota of gloom. Nature seems to be passing across the message that a great day filled with happiness and devoid of mishaps should be expected.

The smell of fresh air taking you away from all the hustles and bustles of a polluted environment in an ordinary day is nothing you would want to miss. In a world where air pollution has become so rampant, I believe allowing everyone to experience the fresh breeze would be a great lesson for conserving our ecosystem. The freshness and tranquility of the atmosphere at Diamond beach defines a habitable ecosystem that every living thing deserves to experience. Being at this beach makes you appreciate that this world is truly a beautiful place. You forget all your worries as your mind sinks into the serenity making you want to live forever. It is one place that reminds us to appreciate life and conserves the beauty of nature. It directly talks to us to acknowledge that life does not have to be first-paced all the time. It makes the importance of taking time off to real and unwind become so real and necessary.

Diamond beach is a rare and precious place to be. I know millions of beaches exist globally, but none is like the diamond beach. The light kisses from the coastal breeze, the smell freshness, the purity of the sand, and the crimson beauty of water is out of this world. Regardless of whichever angle you may view the beach from, you will not miss noticing the splendor of this natural feature. Every step in the beach leaves fine-grained sand shifting as if paving the way for the next step you take. With every motion forward, you feel like you are walking on freshly fallen snow. The only difference is that the crystalline white blanket bequeathed by the winter normally is cold but on the beach, it is warm thanks to the sun rays.

During the day, you cannot fail to notice a change in the cute sand particles as they form a golden reflection from the sun. It appears as if the sun rays are trapped inside the unmelting sand crystals forming the beautiful yellow golden color. Interestingly, upon picking the sand gravels, they rest on your palm like diamond crystals illuminating a white color between your fingers. Despite the midday heat, being at the beach at this time is an opportunity to witness its brightness entirely. The fact that it is conserved as a private beach adds to its numerous advantages and lessens congestion giving everyone a chance to connect with nature undisturbed. It is almost impossible not to notice the ocean at this point of the day. It waves curl up and down, rolling in white tipped shapes, spreading like fine silky laces over the beach. The way they softly crash on the beach or violently splash their waters overboard is simply stunning. The gentle sound that emanates from their contact with the beach makes the feeling even more fulfilling.

If the ocean were a person, I would describe it in many ways. It would be at one point introverted, calm, still, graceful but at another point extroverted, throwing waves aggressively, outgoing and interactive. The behavior of the ocean cannot be described as noisy despite all the commotion that appears to be going on. Only slight wave sounds that a keen soul would hear. I think the ocean has many secrets it would share with people if it could talk. For me, its silent sounds take me back to a time of reflecting and appreciating life. They give new meaning to life. With every turn of the wave that comes and goes, I remember we are all passing by in this world, and the best thing to do is appreciate what we have, before the next wave takes over. For a moment, I am lost in thoughts when a palm leaf drops on my silky dress and brings me back to reality.

It is almost impossible to go on discussing diamond without describing the splendid physical environment that surrounds the beach. The physical environment of the beach is superb. The first thing that I notice as I focus my attention on the beach is the relaxation mood. People from all age groups can be seen on beach seats with colorful costumes and fluffy towels. I guess they are just from enjoying a swim. On that note, I should not forget to state that lovers of swimming will enjoy being in Diamond. The water temperature is never hot or cold but perfect for a swim. Small adorable children in white costumes appear like angels creating sand castles as others run across to float kites on the cool breeze. The teens are frolicking with beach balls having a time of their lives as the young adults cuddle, hold hands, and share special moments while taking a walk along the shoreline.

A few meters away a particular group of people can be seen excluded for religious reasons. As I draw my focus to that group, I realize that they are having an outdoor yoga class. What a great place to connect with your internal senses and spirituality. Diamond is definitely the place to be for yoga especially during morning or evening hours. There is little interruption and the silence is just what you need. Upon inquiring from one of the yoga instructors, I am told that the classes have been going on for a while in the same spot. According to the instructor, people have found peace in their lives since they started visiting Diamond beach for yoga. If you love yoga, you have found a recreation and a spiritual connection site.

Diamond beach stands out in the Caribbean Island of modern beach houses giving the inhabitants a panoramic ocean view. The mastermind behind the exterior was Chad while Davis studio aided with the interior and Enzo the landscaping to give an elegant piece of artwork. The prowess and architectural expertise is incredible as everyone who walks to the beach never fails to notice the splendor. Attractive colors that allow calm and light are a perfect complement to the beach which is bright during the day. The Hi-tech beach houses which have been designed in the latest architectural designs are similar, all having balconies facing the sandy beach. From the balcony, you enjoy seeing the spectacular ocean view as lounges of water cover up the entire place. Those living or visiting Diamond enjoy beautiful weather which cannot be described as sunny or humid. It is just perfect.

Serving the visitors, tourists, and locals in the beach is the Diamond hotel. It’s shaped like a diamond and is an exquisite place to be if you plan to spend a few days on the beach and do not live nearby. They offer great room services and maintain a high level of hygiene and cleanliness with excellent customer care services. The rooms are ample and spacious with perfect temperatures and an excellent view of the beach. You get to enjoy free internet connection, music system, and laptops for use while you enjoy visiting the beach. The rates are cost-friendly as the hotel packages cater for people from all age groups. If you have toddlers, you should not worry as there are special cots and nurses to attend to children. If you have special needs, the staircase and special rooms have been modified to meet them. The reception, ambiance, and hospitality of the hotel will make you stay longer. Recreational activities are available with a fully-serviced gym for fitness, spa, massage, and beauty parlor to make you gorgeous as you go out. Besides the remarkable fitness and beauty services, there are spectacular mouthwatering and finger-licking delicacies to choose from. The food is freshly served upon placing an order while alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks are also in plenty. In general thus, visiting Diamond beach is a memorable and magnificent experience. Getting a chance to interact with the lovely, friendly Caribbean people and share in their rich dance culture could even make you want to change your nationality.

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Descriptive Writing: A Day at the beach

Excel in creative writing with our printable worksheet, focusing on writing a picture description about a day at the beach..

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The Beach [writing prompt]

by Joe Bunting | 103 comments

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Write about the beach.

Write for fifteen minutes. When you're finished, post your practice in the comments section.

And if you post, please comment on a few pieces by other writers.

Photo by Vince Alongi

Here's my practice:

On Friday evening, he arrived at the house and immediately got Amber on her leash and went out to the beach. It was a cool summer evening, as only Santa Barbara can be. The tide was out and as he sauntered along the hard, wet sand with his jeans rolled to his shins, the cold waves came up over his toes and ankles. The sun warmed his cheeks and when the light summer wind stirred about him he caught the scent of the seaweed and the more delicate perfume of the saltsand. Amber trotted beside him, and when the wave came close, splashed in, tugging at her leash until the wave went back out.

When he got to the point he let Amber off her leash. She sprung into the waves, her head up and her mouth wide like a smile. He took a deep breath. He thought about what it would feel like to run in after her. He would launch himself over the waves. Foam would spray around him and the water would fill the space between his skin and clothes. It would be cold. When he got in far enough he would dive under the first big wave and his hair would flatten against his eyes. He might laugh. He might try to catch the dog and wrestle her. But that was for children and he didn’t have time for it. He called Amber and turned back toward the white house and walked away.

Joe Bunting

Joe Bunting is an author and the leader of The Write Practice community. He is also the author of the new book Crowdsourcing Paris , a real life adventure story set in France. It was a #1 New Release on Amazon. Follow him on Instagram (@jhbunting).

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103 Comments

Each wave crashed closer and closer to our camp on the warm sand. We embraced the Costa Rican lifestyle and arrived hours before the tourists even considered rolling out of their beds.

The sand. The thieving monkeys. The warm Pacific Ocean. All exclusively ours to enjoy.

The last one all too close to enjoy as we watched the waves invade our camp, threatening our peaceful, quiet morning. Surely the water would recede before it reached us.

At the same moment–too late to do much about it–we all realized that was faulty logic. As the swimmers ran in behind the tsunami, those of us on the this-moment-dry land began frantically groping for our belongings and throwing them further up the hot morning sand. Electronics first, flip flops last.

The wave crashed somewhere between the pitching of the electronics and the pulling up of the towels. the towels would dry long before we’d be done in the salty bathwater. The flip flops were easy to recover.

The greatest casualty was my brown journal, grabbed by the vicious water and rushed out to sea. I dove after it, scooping it back into the safety of my arms after the damage had been done.

Tucked beneath the words and prayers were flowers, leaves, and now sand. The pages holding the nearly-flat items were now crinkled with some added character from the sea adventure. The saltwater submission only added to the story.

Gorgeous writing. I love the journal. Love the journal!

Thanks, Marla!

Whew that was a close one! I couldn’t imagine losing all my writing. This reminded me of a saying. “The tidal wave is coming and you’re picking up seashells.” Nice work, Katie.

Thanks, Karl

I felt like I was right there. Great writing Katie. I don’t understand the section that says “the towels would dry long before we were done in the salty bathwater” . I love the description of the journal in the last paragraph.

Thanks, Marianne. I was trying to say that it was hot so the towels would dry quickly and the water felt good so we didn’t want to get out.

Duh, I get it now. I should have known that.

I like this. I cringed when she lost the journal, yet you turned what could have been a hopeless situation into something postive.

Thanks, Joan

This makes me want to read more, and that is always a good thing.

I’m so glad!

That vividly reminded me of a crazy time with a rogue wave that my husband had just recently.

I didn’t want to go skinny dipping that evening. I had no intention of taking my clothes off. It didn’t matter that they were my best friends.

The half-sun loomed over the liquid horizon. I stood barefoot in the sand as my friends jumped off the pier. Josh dropped his trunks to the ground and flung his shirt at me. He darted past toward the water, shouting “Woohoo!” as he canon-balled into the ocean. James went right after him. I rolled my eyes. I didn’t understand how they could run around, frolicking about with their bits and pieces dangling in front of God and everybody.

Jen came up behind me. “Come on, John! I’m gonna do it, too. We’ll do it together.”

I eyed her quizzically. “You can’t be serious. You’re gonna just run around with your tits hanging out, in front of Josh and James? You’re just gonna swim around with your hoo-ha on display for all the fish? What if a worm or something swims right on in there?”

“You are so funny. Come on, it’ll be fun!” She slipped her shirt off and let it fall to the ground. I had to admit, of the four of us, I didn’t mind that Jen was stripping down. She shook her shoulders at me.

“Ok, ok. I’ll do it. After you.” She wrinkled her nose and kissed me on the cheek. She ran off down the peer and jumped in the water.

I took my shirt off. Sighing, I dropped my trunks. I immediately covered my shame with both hands (I would have you believe that I did need both hands for the task).

I called out to my friends, “Don’t look!”

“Nothin’ to look at!”

“No one wants to look at your crusty butt, John!” They called back.

“Run, John!” I heard Jen call out.

I took a deep breath and ran down the pier. The wind hit the front of my body and made my nipples hard.

I jumped off the pier and brought my knees up to my chest. I made a splash in the cool water. I tasted the salt on my lips, felt the water in every pore on my skin. I treaded water with my chin just resting on the surface of the ocean. Josh and James were splashing water at each other. Rachel was floating on her back, her chest facing the sky like two teepees at sunset.

I wanted to swim to her, but something stopped me. I felt a sharp pain… down there. Right on the willy. It burned something fierce. My hand tried to cover it and I felt something slimy in the way. My palm started burning immediately. Right in front of my face I saw a little clear blob swimming with me.

“JELLYFISH!” I cried out. Everything was blurry. Josh, or James, somebody pulled me out of the water. I heard someone say take him to the hospital. I yelled at them to put my clothes on. Somebody said no, we don’t have time for that. Don’t look down, they said. I looked down, and I wept. My bits and pieces were red and furious, almost twice the size of what they were supposed to be. I never imagined a day when that would be a bad thing, until now.

It will be a cold day in hell when I go back to the beach.

Wonderful! I love the line about covering his shame. Perfect.

Karl I love your story! Your opening definitely captured the spirit of skinny dipping… too bad about the jellyfish (I wasn’t expecting that at all! Now I’m kinda scared to go in the water… lol)

My intention was to really play on his fear of being naked. The journey to the hospital, into the lobby, everyone staring the whole time. But the timer went off. 🙁 Oh well. I’m glad you enjoyed it 🙂

I couldn’t figure out if I was supposed to laugh or cry, Karl. Well done.

😀 Thank you. I’d prefer you laugh.

Oh good because that’s what I wanted to do. 😉

oh man. ha. it would be a long time before i went back to the beach too!!

Great twist. Wasn’t expecting that at all. A fun read, good job.

That was hilarious! The best part is when he is sell asking for his clothes when they take him off to the hospital.

I love the tone of this piece. I could read pages and pages. “Covered my shame with both hands,” “chest facing the sky like two teepees at sunset,” “my bits and pieces were red and furious,” all BRILLIANT. Terrific voice, terrific piece. Thanks for sharing.

Very evocative. The outcome after having to build up the courage seemed so cruel!

I have never seen the ocean, but already I don’t like it. We are driving on this back road in California, Dave at the wheel and me clutching the passenger door handle. It is night, the sky is navy blue, the stars like warning lights in the sky.

I still can’t see the ocean, but I can hear it because Dave has the windows down and the radio off. The sea has gnashing teeth, that’s what the sound is like. There are animals in it as big as my house. The waves crash. People always say the waves crash, and now I know what they mean. They sound hateful against the shore.

Dave touches my cheek. “Smell that?” he says. “That’s the smell of life. Of the beginning of everything.”

What I smell is fish and old socks and something like wet firewood.

We are too new to be here together. I met Dave three weeks ago. At a party. When I was with my boyfriend. My boyfriend left the next day, and I called Dave, who’d given me his number on a scrap of paper, slipped it into my hand at the end of the night, right before I walked out the door. My boyfriend is out of the country now, gone for a month. Drumming up business for his boss, who sells used American clothing to people who still think the USA is a mystery to be solved through mimicry and soft denim. When he comes back I’ll tell him it’s over. Because it is over. That is why I’m here.

Dave pulls off the road, and we bump along onto land that feels uncertain under the wide tires of the SUV. His headlights catch the sea, the waves, the endless line that seems to dip past the horizon.

I pry my fingers loose from the door handle.

Dave has a flashlight, and he’s guiding me through brush and hills of sand, right onto the beach.

“The ocean,” he says, like he’s unveiling a painting.

“The ocean,” I repeat, and lace my finger through his.

The moon is a tambourine in the sky, clouds covering and uncovering it, now you see it, now you don’t.

Far away is a campfire and laughter, and we step across beer cans and shells the shape of guitar picks. I bend to take one and hold it tight in my hand.

“I almost drowned once,” I say. The ocean is so loud Dave asked me to repeat it and I can’t.

“It’s beautiful, right?” he says. He wants me to love it. I see in him everything I’m not. With my boyfriend, it’s not the same. We are too much alike. I’d say I was afraid of the ocean and he’d say, Well, of course you are. It’s a deathtrap.

But Dave sees only beauty. He used to surf, he told me on our way here. He’s seen a shark. Got so close he noticed a nick in the fish’s fin. I felt a chill then, that ran to my toes, and back up again until it clutched my heart.

I reach in my pocket for a cigarette, and pull it out to light it. Dave stops beside me. “I thought you were quitting,” he says.

Here, at the edge of everything, I need a smoke. I need a Xanax, but nicotine will have to do.

Dave cups his hands over mine, and I give the cigarette up, and he holds me. I am shaking.

“It’s all right,” he says, and offers the cigarette back, but I don’t take it. The sea is rumbling, the spray so close now it hits my face. If I walk out three steps I will be ankle deep in the ocean. If I turn and run I can be back to the car in three minutes, tops. I look at Dave. I wonder what he sees in me. You never really know. I think, if I stay, that he will break my heart open and it will either die or fill up with light so bright I will shine on nights like this.

I think I’m ready to shine.

What an interesting story Marla, I like how you treat the beach almost as its own character (versus a setting). I can see how if you didn’t grow up near the water it would certainly be a strange adjustment with the noises and smells! (I’ve never thought about it because I grew up near water but the sea sounding like the “gnashing of teeth” is a great description!!)

Thanks KP. I grew up in a landlocked state. The ocean looks like a million ways to die to me. Although, I can’t deny its beauty!

I love how she starts out pessimistic and turns out optimistic at the end. Nice work.

Thank you!

“people who still think the USA is a mystery to be solved through mimicry and soft denim.” – – awesome. many lines of awesome here 🙂

Thank you so much.

I like all the description. I can easily picture the scene in my head. Especially like the metaphor with the moon as a tambourine.

You show the personality of these characters so well, the pessimist and the optimist (or I guess he’s just not a pessimist maybe). I also see her as someone who is going to make a decision that could alter their life if the relationship is of any duration. I wonder what it would look like to her twenty years down the road. Very interesting and of course very well written as always. Thanks Marla!

I love it when you read my work. Such insight. I think you make me better.

I love the last two paragraphs. She’s so scared and she’s choosing hope. Lovely!

Thank you. You’re always so encouraging.

I love this, Marla! I love the juxtaposition of their reactions to the ocean and the protagonist’s attempt to find reconciliation but instead she only finds fear. Great description.

Thank you Katie!

Another one for the anthology… Keep it up Marla.

This is very compelling. The character sounds torn up until the very end where it seems she’s willing take to a leap of faith with Dave. I love it.

Wow – the imagery is really beautiful and strong, and totally supports the emotional energy of the characters. Lovely writing!

He awoke early, before the sun had even begun to think of arching through the sky. The alarm bleated at him from somewhere in the darkness and he rolled out of bed groggily, begrudgingly. Pulling on an old pair of jeans, a grey hooded sweatshirt and his worn out sneakers he left the unmade bed and took only a moment to fish his keys out of the clay dish by the door before slipping out. This morning was particularly cold, and he shoved his hands in his pockets and missed his gloves. She had said it in passing a few days ago, just a thought that she’d never had before and would probably never have again, but as soon as she said it he knew he had to find one.

“These are so pretty! I’ve never been able to find one on the beach, though,” she cupped the sand dollar in the gift shop gently, then set it back down on the shelf.

“They are nice,” he’d said this gruffly, because he was already thinking, I would find a million sand dollars for you. They went to dinner afterwards, and she did not mention the sand dollars again, but they burned in the back of his mind as a small ember, slowly growing to flame.

Pushing through the dunes, the waist high grass soon fell away and gave way to smooth sand. Huge, gnarled tree trunks dotted the beachscape, serving as a makeshift breadcrumb trail. He made a beeline for the water’s edge, knowing if he was to find a whole sand dollar he would have to be further up the shore, away from the seagulls.

During the day, the beach was a flurry of activity: kite flying, dogs chasing frisbees, people walking along the surf and splashing each other. A few brave souls would even swim in the icy green-blue water, often diving in and coming back up a moment later, exclaiming at the frigidity. There were families, teenagers, old men trying to meet the exercise quota set by their doctors.

Right now, though, it was all his. Smooth sand, seaweed and the quiet wssshhh of the tide lapping at his feet. He paused to enjoy the scenery only a moment, then started his search. Most were broken, chipped or otherwise flawed. He’d been searching for what felt like forever – he wasn’t sure if he’d ever regain feeling in his face at this point – but then he saw it sticking out of the sand at a ninety degree angle. A small marker, so easy to miss. Squatting, he carefully brushed away the sand and seaweed to reveal a small sand dollar, so small it fit easily in the palm of his hand. Whole. Perfect.

He cupped it in his hand gently, lovingly. He rinsed it off carefully in the tide, then carefully placed it in his pocket. He would give it to her later this morning, when he brought her coffee in bed. The perfect sand dollar for the perfect girl.

What a sweetheart, that guy. She’s lucky!

love the feel of this. the cold and the search, overpowered by love.

Great description and a touching story. Well done.

Audrey stood with her heels in her left hand. Her toes dug deep into the sun touched sand. The wind wrapped around her pulling her hair forward across her face, her skirt tight to the back of her long legs. The wind seemed to be pulling thought from her mind, too. Pulling at it until it broke free, dancing high in the draft and soaring over the ocean’s edge. This place felt so unfamiliar to her. Her, who was raised in the Smokey Mountains, her, who was used to the sharp and jagged rocks of the mountainside under her feet, whose lungs had grown accustomed to the red clay dirt being kicked up along the roads of her childhood. The smooth granules under her feet now seemed so foreign. The ocean air moist and salty made it hard for her to breath; but more than all that, it seemed unfamiliar to face this unknown terrain without him. She looked down at her right hand, held in a fist at her side; marked now with age and she realized… even her own body had become unfamiliar. The hands at her side were no longer the hands that had held his under the moonlight. No longer were they the tentative hands of a young mother learning their first child. These unfamiliar hands had reached out for the folded flag they had presented her; these hands had clutched the airplane ticket and crumpled it with her first-time flier’s nerves. And now, she took in the vastness of the water before her. She took in the gravity of his last wish- “We always had such grand adventures, kid. Scatter my ashes someplace we’ve never been. Scatter them where it will remind you to keep exploring. Keep loving. Keep finding this world anew.” She raised her right hand holding the last tangible piece of him deep in her fist. Conscious, as she always would be now, she supposed; of the similarity of weight and texture she held in her hand, and the sand between her toes. And she released him into that wind that held her. She released herself into the unknown.

Ohhh that was a good one. A sense of wonder followed by closure, is what I got from reading this. One small thing: the critic in me wants to cringe at your use of the semicolon. But I have learned to ignore him unless he is wanted or needed. 🙂

no! I appreciate it. In these practice pieces I don’t spend a ton of time going over the piece for edits so I appreciate that.

I enjoyed the images created with the wind. I especially liked, “The wind seemed to be pulling thought from her mind” I could see her. Nice descriptions.

So, so beautiful. The one line of dialogue is gorgeous. I love this.

I like the idea that the ashes in her hand are similar to the sand. I think most of us who have thrown ashes into the sea think about that. It’s like when they say “ashes to ashes, dust to dust” at a funeral. The entire piece is well written. I like the detail. I like that the one line of dialogue is meaningful. Thanks!

Every year my brother and I looked forward to July 4th with great excitement and anticipation. After chasing each other around the yard with streaming sparklers, we would watch magical snakes unfold and coil from a tiny pellet lit responsibly by our father. Then, we would climb a ladder to the flat roof of our house and, turning toward the bay, watch the fire works explode and sparkle over the water. Then one year our parents decided to join several other families for a beach party on the Fourth of July. Going to the beach itself wasn’t anything special; we lived in a seaside town and going to the beach was a regular outing for us (especially when my mother needed a break). But going to the beach on July 4th was something we had never been allowed to do. Soon the day arrived and we packed our shovels, beach toys, food and fireworks into the car and set off. It was early afternoon when we parked but already the beach was crowded. The dads immediately grabbed shovels and began to dig a gigantic whole, large enough for twelve people to sit in. I was told that once the fireworks began, the hole would shelter us from the smoke. As my brother and I frolicked in the waves, we could see the dads, torsos glistening with sweat digging while the moms lounged on beach chairs smoking and drinking cans of beer. After a dinner of hot dogs, potato chips and cupcakes, we started to hear the popping of firecrackers and the whistling of Piccolo Pete’s. We lit our sparklers and chased the other kids we knew, the darkness thickening as the air filled with smoke. Soon my brother and I found ourselves separated from our parents who, at the onslaught of the festivities, had retreated to their giant hole. A new sound tore across the beach: the whirring of sirens as ambulances began to arrive. Frightened, we ran for what seemed like hours trying to find anything that looked familiar. Eventually we found our parents and didn’t venture away from our temporary compound after that. The next day we heard that a firework had blown up in the hand of boy my age and he had lost three fingers. We never again went to the beach on the Fourth of July.

Ouch! You really packed a punch with this one. Good work.

So many memories of childhood come flooding back when reading this. Well written.

How quickly this turns from a wonderful beach party to a disaster. I don’t understand what happens though. What is the giant hole for, and what happened that called the ambulances.

It was the most beautiful beach he had ever seen. But this was no tropical paradise. The wind whipped at his body with its icy fingers. The tiny grains of sand stung his raw, exposed cheeks as they pummeled his face. He was forced to climb down 100 feet of steep, jagged rocks on a narrow and rut-filled pathway just to reach this sandy wonderland. Between the rocks grew windswept trees with all of their branches and leaves growing on one side of the trunk, like bonsai trees with one side completely removed. The air smelled of salt and dead sea creatures. Despite all of this he found it to be one of the most remarkable places he had ever seen. The scenery was breathtaking with a horizon that dropped of the edge of the world. The compacted sand was the color of a perfectly cooked pancake. There were tide pools with hundreds of tiny crustaceans meandering about. It was a place that had yet to be stained by the intrusion that is the mass of humanity. It was nature, a piece of earth that still was as it was meant to be. It made him feel at one with the world, at peace at last.

Perfect! Sadly, virtually no such place exists that has not been tainted by mankind in one way or another. 🙁 Your descriptions brought a smile to my face, great job!

That is gorgeous! The details are great. I can picture it quite clearly. It sounds amazing and worth climbing down to see.

“the color of a perfectly cooked pancake” – I love that description.

The beach at Ocean View isn’t as impressive as the one at Virginia Beach. It’s narrower, dirtier, and the jelly fish are thicker there in the summer, but when it’s warm and the sun shines any beach can seem like paradise.

They didn’t have any life guards at Ocean View and when we were kids out mother’s would be so busy smoking, talking, and drinking iced tea out of thermoses, that is was surprising that none of us drowned. They did stand up and yell when we drifted down a block toward the storm drain pipes. The storm drain pipes spit out some interesting things sometimes like once a series of TV dinners were spit out, once a life sized baby doll with no eyes, and once a bottle with a note and a cork but the cork had gone down inside the bottle and the note fell apart when we got it out. Roger Dunchee, who I was not supposed to play with because his parents were divorced told me that a head and two hands came out once and that they belonged to a girl that looked just like me. I think that was after I told him I couldn’t talk to him anymore because his mother was a divorcee.

The worst thing about the Ocean View beach though was there were no leash laws and people let dogs run. I’m not afraid of dogs except for Doberman Pinschers. I think I watched too much of the TV show, Matlock. On what seemed like just about every single episode it showed Apollo and Zeus, two Doberman’s who were guard dogs baring their teeth and snarling, while being held back on their leashes or while jumping at a chain link fence. Or maybe the problem with me and Doberman Pinscher’s is the way they are big dogs but they wiggle and bark like the little dogs, and everyone knows little dogs are nippy. Anyway I’m terrified of them.

When we were about twenty or so, a group of five or six of us were lying in the sun on beach recliners when I saw a pinscher bounding toward us.

“Oh a doberman is coming,” I said. “It’s coming this way. It’s going to bite us.”

“It won’t bother you,” said Joyce.

“I hate them,”

“Well don’t start screaming. Be quiet and it will go on past,” said Bonnie. She lit a cigarette and gave me a dirty look like I was being annoying or something.

I tried to be calm. I was in the middle so it would have to tear through someone else to get to me. I remember thinking that. I kept my eye on it. It’s owner was throwing a piece of driftwood for it and it would retrieve it and run back. I was gleaming black with tan feet and big shiny teeth. I knew that driftwood had to be full of holes. Driftwood being soft like human muscles.

They kept coming down the beach. The owner was young with a tattoo of an anchor on his chest. The other girls thought he was good looking. He threw the driftwood and it landed about ten feet away from us at the edge of the water. The dog surged forward toward the wood, but passed it. He came straight toward us. I couldn’t believe it. I buried my head in my arms. I held my breath.

“Hey boy,” I heard Joyce say. “He won’t hurt you Marianne. Just look at him, pet him.”

I didn’t move, and then I felt it. I felt a wet, cold nose in the center of my back. Then one quick lick with a huge tongue. Worse than watching a horror movie it was.

“He’s gone said,” said Joyce.

I looked up then and sure enough he was bouncing down the beach in the other direction. He did look back and met my gaze. His mouth was open like he was laughing.

So much to love here but my favorite has to be the boy with the divorced parents. I love the way your story unfolds, the rhythm to it, and the gorgeous detail. The end is perfect.

Thank Marla. I appreciate the time you take to go over my stuff.

I will never swim in these waters. Even love can’t make me. They’re not the seas I grew up with, seas warm like bath-water, the waves lapping so soft you can sleep in them.

This water here bites. And the waves are hungry. If I were to even try… If I were to strip off this jacket, these socks, these gloves, and run into the churning white like my children are doing, like you, and gran and gramps.

It’s a thought. I stop there. I can’t.

Returning your hello that day, looking into your strange green eyes, that was the hoodie coming off. Saying yes those many months later, after I’d learnt to touch those bleached out eyebrows, that tangle of animal hair on your chest, that was the gloves. And flying over here, learning to live with your people, in your country, that’s as far as I can wade.

I’m drowning in it already. This life. Our life … Don’t ask me for more.

I love how this wraps around from the water to an entire life. I love this line, especially. “They’re not the seas I grew up with, seas warm like bath-water, the waves lapping so soft you can sleep in them.” Beautiful.

Great writing here Oddznns. I like it all but I particularly like how she starts to think the ‘what if” about running into the waves but then can’t even complete the thought. I feel her alienation. I think she would be a great character for a book, or story, but you images here are like poetry to me. I really like this piece.

Yumi had been drawn back to the beach. Inside her trembling frame her soul screamed in agony, her weakened legs barely held her up. It had been one year and eight months to the hour since hell rose up and sucked away her reason to live. On that frigid silent morning the black putrid ocean came over them and then forever kept coming. The shrieking banshee cry of the tsunami alarm vibrated through her bones as she ran with baby Akiko in her grasp. The impact of the wave smashed her legs and the baby tumbled from her tender grasp. The tiny bundle in the white shawl was pulled under the evil darkness, and was gone. Yumi waded into the Pacific Ocean her eyes on the horizon her heart broken. Soon the mother would again see the baby.

This is horrifying but the writing is good.

I agree, Marianne. It captures that primal fear and devastation so brilliantly. Nice job.

The image of this ‘ Beach Post’ was so vivid that I could smell the beach. Many thanks!

Along the White Sands… April slipped off her sandals, enjoying the feel of the warm white sand between her toes. The beach was nearly empty, except for a few neighbors enjoying the last rays of evening sun. She smiled and waved at the Herrings—the retired couple who lived next door. In the opposite direction, Mike and Janet Parsons sat holding hands as they watched their four-year-old twins playing in the sand. April acknowledged them, but hurried by—haunted by painful memories of Brad and of the children that never were. She and Brad once walked together along this beach—arm-in-arm, sharing their hopes and dreams. Then, life happened—three pregnancies, three miscarriages. It put a strain on their marriage and Brad moved out. “We both need some space,” he had said, “and time to think this through.” Whatever happened to ‘until death do us part?’ Had he truly loved her, or was the love conditional on her bearing his children? She walked to a secluded spot and sat down in the sand, allowing the waves wash over her feet. She gazed at the endless panorama of the azure blue ocean, wishing she could forget her problems. Yet she knew the time had come to face her situation. Either Brad loved her and wanted to remain together or he didn’t. It was time for him to decide—enough of him stringing her along. He had been gone for six months—long enough. She would call him tomorrow. “It’s now or never,” she would say. “I need to get on with my life—with you or without you.” With a newfound resolve, she rose and began walking back to the beach house. Twilight had settled in. The Parsons were gathering their things and calling to the twins to follow them inside. The Herrings had already retired to their deck, as they did most evenings. A man walked along the white sands toward her. A stranger? Maybe someone new to the neighborhood? No, there was something familiar… Could it be? Dare she hope? The person came nearer. What was he doing here? Had he come home? Home to stay? She walked closer and Brad held out his arms…

This is so good Joan. I am really happy when it’s Brad coming along the beach. You explain her situation so well that I feel like I know her.

Thank you, Marianne. I appreciate your encouragement.

I had the dream again, the one at the beach. It’s a cold gray Washington beach, not the pretty blue-skied California kind. I can’t see her face, but I’m pretty sure it’s me. She’s naked and alone. The waves are heavy and many. It seems like the beginning of an independent movie with swirling camera angles and avant-garde cinematography. She stands there for a long time. I notice her toenails are not painted, her thighs are dimpled with cellulite, and her hair curtains most of her back. She begins walking deliberately and rhythmically paced toward the water. The rhythm never changes, not even when her feet, legs, or waist meet the cold water. She walks until she is gone. There is no struggle, no sound, no pain, just gone. I can taste salt water in my mouth, but there is something not sea about it. Then I realize it is not seawater, but blood. I am not in the ocean. I am face down in a bathtub tasting my own blood. I can see myself from above myself. I scream. No sound comes out. Nobody knows I am in there. Nobody knows but me.

So powerful! I love this line. “There is no struggle, no sound, no pain, just gone.”

Wow. That was a surprise at the end. The way you move from the image in her mind to “I can taste salt water in my mouth” is great. The pacing is also good especially when she is walking without pause toward the sea.

Sand Castles

I have a photo of you, squinting in bright sundown next to the big sand castle we built on Clearwater Beach. That castle took hours. It took bucketsfull of wet white sand, and we poured itand shaped it into minarets and towers, arches and battlementson wide round walls, until our hands were raw, our necks burned red and then the sun went down. I took a photo of you with our castle, a snapshot to record our sweat and work and as the last light sunk into the gulf, we packed up our things and you kicked our castle down.

Damn. It didn’t preserve my line breaks.

Fixed it…. ish. Beautiful, Gabriel. Did you just write that now?

Love that last line: “and you kicked our castle down.”

So poignant.

Thanks Joe. I wrote it in a few minutes after reading the prompt.

Reading like this is like taking in a painting- lovely!

What a good description of both a sand castle and I assume a relationship. I particularly like that you put “kicked it down” and not “knocked it down”. I like the rhythm of the writing here too.

Thank you, Marianne!

Water doesn’t crash upon the sand here. When it reaches the sand it arrives a smooth hand upon a loved one’s cheek. At times, though, when boaters push the limits of the buoy signatures, it slaps upon the perpetually wet grains of sand, void of the relief of tides receded. No, the waters here more often than not rest quietly against the shores, a lover nestled beside it’s mate.Ashore, and in the shallows, in spite of the absence of surf, the activity is no less vibrant than on coastal cousins. Holes are scraped into grains, and forms of moistened sand take the shape of turrets and walls. Moats are crafted, and channels forged to the clear lake water mere meters away. at the water’s edge, floaties flop up an down as feet slowly submerge themselves into cold northern waters. Waist-deep, beside the docks, bread balls torn from a slice, drop atop the surface, a summons to the fish; nets clutched in elementary hands move futiley after the darting bluegills, their hunger sated, and their survival instinct piqued.Atop the aluminum tread of the adjacent dock bare feet thunder toward the terminus. Toward the depths, they launch their bearers skyward, out above the still clear pool, and downward, producing squeals of pleasure and refreshment, and wide-spreading splashes just shy of the swimming boundary.The scene is repeated, for sure, some in the majority of the 10,000 other places up here where fresh water collects itself as a lake. No, the beach is not just a foundation of coastal life. Here, in the land of lakes, the beach is woven into the fabric of lives from youth to the sunset years.In Minnesota you grow up near water. And, you make good use of it, year-round. It is the summers, though where the water is not only imbibed, but embraced, And nowhere is this more true than the municipal, association, and even hidden, private beaches marking the bodies dotting the state north from Austin to International Falls, east from Moorhead to Hastings, and throughout the entirety of what we call the Northland.

You have some great ideas here. I like the line about the beach being woven into the fabric of lives and the water not having a strong tide but cuddling with the shore. I think you need some action, some dialogue and some characters to bring it to life more. It sounds like a very different kind of water than the other beaches described here.

But now we reveled in the promise of our new found freedom as the inevitable decline of summer forced its way into our consciousness. W e were leaving behind the fear and embarrassment of high school for something that was much more feral. It was tradition for the newly graduated to camp out at the state park and various other campgrounds, setting up little shanty towns and spending the nights dancing around bonfires with red solo cups filled with various concoctions while trying to avoid the stern gaze of the deputy sheriff. It was a time when you lived as if these were your last moments. When you tried to hook-up with that girl from your chemistry class you’d been meaning to ask to prom or smoked a joint with that kid who always pushed you into your locker in the fourth grade. For once in our lives, we were equals. The hierarchy of high school was broken open as we all embarked on our new journeys, unsure of where life would lead us, and not really caring. But I missed the days when Jackson and I spent scouring the beach for seashells or digging in creek beds for arrowheads, when we were fireflies and our bodies hummed electric. These would be the moments that we would look back on during our distant reunions and say, remember when, those meetings of comparison and competition fueled by alcohol and more failed attempts at scoring with that girl from your second period chemistry class.

But even as those days fade into distant memory, things remain the same. The moonlight rippling on the water’s surface like piano keys, the trees weathered grey lining the dunes scraping the sky with their topmost branches or the way storm clouds rumbled low across the sky like wild horses, manes streaked by lightning, as the beacon at the end of the pier blinked knowingly in the night. The only record of the passage of time being the layers of graffiti covering its base, of lovers come and gone making their history known. It’s a wonder that in a town consumed by cleanliness and the conservation of tradition, this bastion for vandalism and rebellion remained blemished and unsightly. But perhaps it was this conservation of tradition that allowed these acts of declaration to survive throughout the years, as if it were expected, a rite of passage as you entered into the world of the unknown. But even then, we still cling to home. Most of my classmates never left this place. I sometimes think about them and I wonder if they’re happy, if they wished they had escaped. In the time I’ve been away, the solitude of this place still fills the deep places of my body and anchors me home.

We spent the summer bare-shoulder, skin kissed pink by the midday sun, freckles blooming across our backs like constellations. Our chests blossomed in air thick with humidity as we wrestled each other to the ground in a tangled mess of limbs still slightly tinged with the awkwardness of growing up. Seagulls littered the sky like bits of old newspaper as we crashed through the waves gulping against the shores of Lake Michigan. Sometimes, we would stand still and let the water creep up around our ankles and recede from our toes, watching the sand squelch between them. The world was filled with vague possibilities, an echo of adventure we felt deep in the marrow of our bones. But now we reveled in the promise of our new found freedom as the inevitable decline of summer forced its way into our consciousness. W e were leaving behind the fear and embarrassment of high school for something that was much more feral. It was tradition for the newly graduated to camp out at the state park and various other campgrounds, setting up little shanty towns and spending the nights dancing around bonfires with red solo cups filled with various concoctions while trying to avoid the stern gaze of the deputy sheriff. It was a time when you lived as if these were your last moments. When you tried to hook-up with that girl from your chemistry class you’d been meaning to ask to prom or smoked a joint with that kid who always pushed you into your locker in the fourth grade. For once in our lives, we were equals. The hierarchy of high school was broken open as we all embarked on our new journeys, unsure of where life would lead us, and not really caring. But I missed the days when Jackson and I spent scouring the beach for seashells or digging in creek beds for arrowheads, when we were fireflies and our bodies hummed electric. These would be the moments that we would look back on during our distant reunions and say, remember when, those meetings of comparison and competition fueled by alcohol and more failed attempts at scoring with that girl from your second period chemistry class.

The beach is home. Surrounded by waves I feel uneasy, but right at the shore, where the breakers hit the sand, I’m at peace. Here the waves are capricious—soaring wintertime gale-driven breakers, or the smooth early-autumn laps more reminiscent of an inland pond. The waves hit the sand like exhalations-sometimes panting, sometimes the quiet puffs of a sleepy giant.

I know this beach. I’ve met other beaches and even become friends with them, but I know this one like a brother. Even the irritating squeak of the sand becomes comforting in its familiarity. I once walked a beach where the sand was like mud. We didn’t get along. Here it’s so fine the grains rush over each other in their frenzy to flee the path of your feet—bringing to mind childhood chalkboard nail dragging. But it’s a small price to pay for a perfect hammock, and a free exfoliation to boot.

Water here is clear and cool, or warm and silty. But it never stings your eyes with salt. The breezes that come in off the lake are invigorating in their freshness. It’s almost as if someone wished for paradise: soft sand, azure waves, and no bite of brine to mar the Eden.

For many people, sea and beach are synonymous, but no matter how many calendars try to convince me otherwise, I’ll always think first of the shores of Lake Michigan.

“My” beach is the Chesapeake Bay but you and many others on this blog make me want to see Lake Michigan. It sounds lovely. The writing here is very descriptive and the setting would be good fro something longer.

This is a great story, full of the joy and adventure of youth. I think it might be better if you broke it up with some dialogue or action.

In the middle of piles of pillows, waking up to the sound of my alarm buzzing continuously. After hitting the snooze multiple times, I finally wake up and first thing I do is check my notifications on my phone. After I finish looking at my friends posts, I get up to open the window only to find the beach right in front of my eyes. My mom comes into my room to tell my that my dads flight was canceled, so he won’t be back until the following morning. I ask why his flight was canceled, and my mom tells me it was because of a blizzard that was happening. My dad is a business man, so he travels a ton. Usually Americans are known to love snow, well let me tell you something, snow isn’t my thing at all. In fact the one time it snows, I dread going outside, so I just end up staying in bed or being a couch potato. My dad doesn’t really mind snow, but I’m sure he minds the fact that he won’t be home for another day. My mom leaves the room, and closes the door behind her. I turn back to the window and open it to hear the sounds of waves, and light winds from the world outside of our beach house. No need to worry about what clothes to wear on what day, because the forecast is always in for a sunny day. All you think to do in the morning is wake up, eat breakfast, and put your swimsuit, and have fun at the beach with your friends. All you can think of is having beach party’s with friends and coming home from a long day at the beach, tan as a peach. I wash off, eat my dinner, and snuggle into bed. “dan da da dan da dan da” “dan da da dan da dan da” my alarm continues going off in my ear. No need to hit snooze because I knew I was going to wake up to the life of my dreams. I wake up and check the window to see if it was actually real, and all I see is the fall leaves and cars passing by rushing to work. I go back into bed disappointed to see the real world.

A soft buzz begins faint, then with the focus it gains from me, the beeping all of a sudden becomes immensely irritating. With a sweep of a condemning hand, the alarm is terminated, a red glow burning against my turtle shell turquoise eyes, adjusted to the shadows of night.

My analog clock reads five thirty, the sky a florescent yet dark navy, specked with select bits of sugar, gleaming against Earth’s closest star about to rise against the salted sea. After a few minutes of lingering around my bedroom, articles of clothing strewn about the carpeted floor like piles of sand, I realize how close the sun is to peaking above the Atlantic.

This will not be unseen.

I’d throw on some replaceable sweats and rush out of the door, hopping onto my bike and peddling with all my might. The cool, salty air would lash against my face as lush green forests slowly morph into houses, shops, and soon a sleepy town, just now barely awakening from it’s slumber. Soon, the harbor takes shape out of the commercial center of town, a mist lifting off of the sea. The pungent scent of cod forever stained into the docks and boathouses relieves me, unlike any tourists who might turn their nose up at it’s unique scent. I welcome it, when I can notice it, as it is like the familiar scent of home to me.

Then all of a sudden, like a wave upon the shore, I see it.

The sandy shores beckon me towards it’s hypnotic visage. I have no will. My legs and the bay are in control. And just as I reach the sandy soaked shores, icy morning waves crashing against my bare feet, I see it.

The sun peaks up above the ocean, my cloudless sky searing from navy to a bright orange and pink that slowly creeps upon my little hamlet. The ships that dot the harbor take a over burnt color, followed by lighthouses in the immeasurable distance, flashing the last of their light for the night. Soon, the forested hills are slammed with the all consuming light of the rising sun, hills reflecting a glossy verdant tint.

The sun’s furthest reaches grasp at the town, it’s chipped and worn pastel paints glowing in the sun’s light. Yet it still grows far beyond my own sight.

All while the icy waves crash against me and my beach. My wonderfully sandy, rocky, boat catching beach. My town. My county.

I like the passive language and the images you paint are really beautiful and intriguing. I got swept up in the other-worldliness of your writing! There are a few lines that felt awkward – the description of the narrator’s eyes, the phrase “this will not be unseen.” I wish the ending stopped at “…boat catching beach.” But otherwise really magical!

I hate the beach. Let me just say that first. Sunburn. Sand. Waves. Noise. People. What’s so bad about that you ask? Do I really have to repeat myself? Anyway, look, my mom thought it would be good for me to get outside and get some “fresh air.” She told me on Monday, “Virginia, we’re going to take a trip on Saturday!” I hate it when she calls me by my full name. “A trip? Cool.” “Oh, come on,” she scolded, “You don’t even know what I’m going to say!” “Somehow not very reassuring, mom.” I reached for a yogurt in the fridge. I could feel her stare boring into the back of my neck. “Come on, Ginger,” she whined, “we’re going to the beach.” Oh boy. Now she uses my nickname. That means this is serious. “Can’t we do something like go to Great Escape? I could really stand to be turned upside down on some weird contraption that passes for a roller coaster…” I joked. “Or, god, even to the mall. I could use some new sneakers!”

I’m guessing she really needs to get out of the house, but the beach? Shit. She’s already stressed out about the new job, so there is no way in hell I’m going to give her shit about it. OK, I know I already did, but, you know what I mean. Anyway, she started two weeks ago, and there’s this thing called a “lag” that’s been freaking her out. “What the hell’s a lag, mom?” “Ginger, could you please not swear? You know I hate that.” I shrugged a little and waited. “OK, so a lag is where you start the job, and you’ll be getting paid every other week, but they don’t pay you for four weeks the first time. You just have to wait, and hope you have enough money to get through.” Her face was a little flushed and she looked down. I waited. She sighed. Oh… “So, you mean we need to watch our spending for two more weeks?” I said. She nodded, slowly looking up at me, pleading with her eyes. Fortunately for her, I think I can live on greek yogurt and the store brand is on sale ten for five dollars. I don’t really need a lot of stuff, and I can usually make do with what I have. I can live without new sneakers. Oh god. Now I think I might be a total jerk.

So, mom. And the beach. “Well, look mom. The beach is free! It’s cool.” She looked up, smiled. I continued, “We can hang out like we used to before all the crazy…” No, her eyes said, NO! Do NOT say it! I stopped. Silence hung between us like a wet blanket. I held my breath. She looked down again, struggling to sound cheerful, “Yeah, hang out like we used to…” her voice trailed off. I stood, my hip against the counter, awkward and trying to find something to do with my arms. I’m tall for sixteen – six feet tall. I suppose I should say tall for a girl. Well, thing is, I’m trans. Have been ever since I can remember, but I haven’t been out for very long, really.

I’m six feet tall, with shoulder length auburn hair. (Yeah, Ginger. Get it?) I’m not a big fan of the beach because I don’t like to be that exposed, although I can wear a bikini just fine – I have one I really like, but I sunburn kind of easy. I guess mom is trying to heal us – this trip to the beach is maybe an olive branch, if that’s the right term. I don’t think it is. What do I mean to say? She’s trying to make herself feel about me the way she did before I came out. And dad left. Two years ago. I guess maybe dad left because I came out, or was it the other way around? It all kind of happened around the same time, so I’m not really sure which happened first. It’s a blur. I have my memories of things, but not in real chronological order.

Verasalt Beach was teeming with life that hot, cloudless afternoon in August. From volleyball to makeshift water polo on the ocean to castle-building by the shoreline, the densely packed beach was buzzing with activity — and inactivity, as many of the guests were content to bask in the sun and work on their tans. The sound of the crashing waves was met with the cries of laughter and jubilation, the squawking of seagulls and the occasional warning calls blasting through the speakerphones of lifeguards. Leo Palminsky, the Beach’s lone MD, or “Metal Detective,” was standing with the belly of his frail and wrinkled forearm resting on top of his detector’s handle while observing what was transpiring around him. The best part of his job, which he held for 20 years following his early retirement from the US army as an explosives specialist, was not finding and extracting metal objects but witnessing what he called the “good life” on this picturesque beach. For Leo, his 20-year tenure at this job served as much-need therapy from the horrors he had faced as a 21-year-old during the second World War, in particular the dreadful day on Normandy Beach, aka “D Day”, when he took three bullets — two to his torso and one to his hind leg —and witnessed the death of many of his fellow officers, some of them friends. It was June 6, 1944, but that day was still fresh in his mind. But he wasn’t going to let the dark memories of the past seep into the present, however difficult that was going to be. Leo reached into the right pocket of his pants and pulled out a brittle, yellow-stained note that read: “Look around you my friend… observe and absorb the energies of the people and places that surround you, and claim THIS day on behalf of all of us.” This was written by his then best friend, Sheldon, who died from his injuries a few days following D-Day. This had been part of Leo’s routine every day for the past 20 years while he worked on the beach: roam the sandy shores with his detector, pause after an hour or so, and read the note, over which he started to express concern since it was falling part — badly. It was ripped on all sides and the ink was fading. At this point, Leo was paralyzed with indecision; he didn’t want to exacerbate the note’s already poor condition by folding it. While thinking of a solution, Leo felt two sharp tugs of his right pant leg; he looked down to find a stout round-faced boy not older than four or five holding up an empty Ziploc bag. Flanking the boy was his father, who, after letting out a short chuckle, instructed his son, “Alex, don’t give the mister that; it’s garbage!” “Far from garbage my friend,” Leo defended. Funny, nothing could have prepared Leo for that awful day in 1944. Neither could have this moment.

Verasalt Beach was teeming with life that hot, cloudless afternoon in August. From volleyball to makeshift water polo on the ocean to castle-building by the shoreline, the densely packed beach was buzzing with activity — and inactivity, as many of the guests were content to bask in the sun and work on their tans. The sound of the crashing waves was met with cries of laughter and jubilation, the squawking of seagulls and the occasional warning calls blasting through the speakerphones of lifeguards. Leo Palminsky, the Beach’s lone MD, or “Metal Detective,” was standing with the belly of his frail and wrinkled forearm resting on top of his detector’s handle while observing what was transpiring around him. The best part of his job, which he held for 20 years following his early retirement from the US army as an explosives specialist, was not finding and extracting metal objects but witnessing what he called the “good life” on this picturesque beach. For Leo, his 20-year tenure at this job served as much-need therapy from the horrors he had faced as a 21-year-old during the second World War, in particular the dreadful day on Normandy Beach, aka “D Day”, when he took three bullets — two to his torso and one to his hind leg —and witnessed the death of many of his fellow officers, some of them friends. It was June 6, 1944, but that day was still fresh in his mind. But he wasn’t going to let the dark memories of the past seep into the present, however difficult that was going to be. Leo reached into the right pocket of his pants and pulled out a brittle, yellow-stained note that read: “Look around you my friend… observe and absorb the energies of the people and places that surround you, and claim THIS day on behalf of all of us.” This was written by his then best friend, Sheldon, who died from his injuries a few days following D-Day. This had been part of Leo’s routine every day for the past 20 years while he worked on the beach: roam the sandy shores with his detector, pause after an hour or so, and read the note, over which he started to express concern since it was falling part — badly. It was ripped on all sides and the ink was fading. At this point, Leo was paralyzed with indecision; he didn’t want to exacerbate the note’s already poor condition by folding it. While thinking of a solution, Leo felt two sharp tugs of his right pant leg; he looked down to find a stout round-faced boy not older than four or five holding up an empty Ziploc bag. Flanking the boy was his father, who, after letting out a short chuckle, instructed his son, “Alex, don’t give the mister that; it’s garbage!” “Far from garbage my friend,” Leo defended. Funny, nothing could have prepared Leo for that awful day in 1944. Neither could have this moment.

As I tread down the beach, the silver sands bask in the light like pixie dust in this fairyland. The lofty coconut palms oscillate as a warm, tropical gust whistles. As the sun drifts down the horizon, it hides behind the clouds shyly with the sky’s cheeks blushing a pink hue. As I sit on a rock and am sprayed with cool brine, I gaze at the fathomless ocean churn. As I return home, I ponder over the years that have gone by and the things that have changed. As I live, the one thing that is constant is the beach.

The Beach Cool and calm would how the ocean would be described by her best friend. Jade stared at the waves as they pushed in and out. She was sitting on the sandy shore, wishing that it were dawn already. The stillness welcomed unwanted thoughts and disturbed her peaceful surroundings. How could she think of anything else at a time like this? The ocean personified, that’s ridiculous. If it were a person it would be irrational and angry. The ocean continuously stirred, in a ceaseless rhythm that warranted disruption. She wiggled her toes a little in the sand. Feeling its cool, grainy texture reminded her of how much she hated the beach. The ocean, the waves and its cool salty air. Too overwhelming for the senses she thought. How could anyone escape when there was just as much noise here than anything else in her head. So why did she come then? It was not anyplace she wanted to go, yet she still arrived. Waiting, for own thoughts to be interrupted by an expected visitor. Pulling her knees in closer, she looked over her left shoulder. Seeing nothing but endless beach and her parked car. She turned to face the water again, not bothering to look over her right. She would hear whoever was coming.

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Home — Essay Samples — Geography & Travel — Beach — Creative Writing: To Walk on The Beach

Creative Writing: to Walk on The Beach

Categories: Beach Literature Review

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Published: Mar 20, 2024

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Writing to Inform, Explain and Describe

Description of a beach

The enclosed beach is silent. The sun is blinding at it emerges; it rises like a yellow balloon on the distant horizon. As the sun gradually starts to appear, a new day unfolds. As the gentle waves lap against the shore, a shoal of crowded fish dart to and frow. Seagulls swoop down from the sky determined to catch there unsuspecting prey. The never ending golden sand stretches out as far as you can see, waiting patiently for people to leave there mark.

The silent echo of the lifeless sea is startling as the day begins; it was almost as if it had sucked out the souls of the nearby creatures. The relaxing atmosphere slowly starts to ease the mind, a gentle sea breeze rustles through the leaves of nearby palm trees waking small birds from their slumber. The beach is abandoned, nothing there apart from a few seagulls pecking at yesterdays leftovers, excited about what today might bring. Empty crisp rappers and cans scatter the heavenly sand leaving a death trap for any living creature.

When the sun shines bright, young children start to appear stumbling onto the moist sand with buckets and spades ready to cover the entire beach in sandcastles. Shopkeepers prepare themselves for the busy day ahead by displaying their merchandise on the pavements to attract the bustling customers. Buckets and spades adorn the shop windows and children captivated by the bright colours rushing to spend every single penny of their pocket money.

This is a preview of the whole essay

The golden blanket was outlining the silvery sea, a pod of large grey dolphins leaped out of the water showing off to each other. Dancing from one place to the next, it was breathtaking. Every movement of the dolphins was picture perfect, the way they glistened in the sunlight and revealed that welcoming and beautiful smile.

Rows of freshly painted beach huts stand proudly side by side; like soldiers on parade. Each one resembling a different colour of the rainbow. The huts are a welcome retreat from the relentlessly scorching sun and families enjoy the cooling shade that differs ever so greatly from the burning heat.

The promenade is adorned in old fashion striped deck chairs, chosen by the elderly as a shelter from the sweltering sun. Without a care in the world they chat amongst themselves reminiscing about their childhood holidays, each story as interesting at the next.

As the sun gradually starts to disappear, nightfall arrives. This signifies that the day is drawing to a close. The happy sounds of laughter that once was there echoes around the empty beach. The gloomy shadow of dusk descends over the sea. Feeble light from the few remaining streetlights appear to dim as the night clouds roll in. Birds silence their song and flee to the safety of their nests. Sandcastles are washed away with the seawater by the changing direction of the tide.

Any last remaining footsteps disappear, and are buried beneath the sand. The wind plays with the scattered rubbish tossing it around in the air like a tornado but then quickly releasing it again. It was once again a perfect end to a perfect day.

Document Details

Author Type Student
Word Count 520
Page Count 1
Subject English
Type of work Controlled assessment

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A Literary Tour Of Moscow

A Literary Tour of Moscow

It’s hard to count the exact number of great Russian writers who showed their love for Moscow. The city has attracted and prompted stories for a long time now, inspiring many to express their writing talent. Thus, Moscow’s literary sights are fully deserving of our attention, and this guide gladly presents you six of them, from museums to apartments.

1. nikolay gogol museum.

Library, Museum

2. The State Museum of Mayakovsky

3. Turgenev's Family House

The portrait of Ivan Turgenev by Vasiliy Perov (1872)

5. The Apartment of Dostoevsky

Building, Memorial, Museum

56-3941803-1441302856840439ed4e7b401ebe751c0a0add0e0c

6. The Mikhail Bulgakov Museum

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Increasingly we believe the world needs more meaningful, real-life connections between curious travellers keen to explore the world in a more responsible way. That is why we have intensively curated a collection of premium small-group trips as an invitation to meet and connect with new, like-minded people for once-in-a-lifetime experiences in three categories: Culture Trips, Rail Trips and Private Trips. Our Trips are suitable for both solo travelers, couples and friends who want to explore the world together.

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36 Views of Moscow Mountain: Teaching Travel Writing and Mindfulness in the Tradition of Hokusai and Thoreau

L'auteur américain Henry David Thoreau est un écrivain du voyage qui a rarement quitté sa ville natale de Concorde, Massachusetts, où il a vécu de 1817 à 1862. Son approche du "voyage" consiste à accorder une profonde attention à son environnement ordinaire et à voir le monde à partir de perspectives multiples, comme il l'explique avec subtilité dans Walden (1854). Inspiré par Thoreau et par la célèbre série de gravures du peintre d'estampes japonais Katsushika Hokusai, intitulée 36 vues du Mt. Fuji (1830-32), j'ai fait un cours sur "L'écriture thoreauvienne du voyage" à l'Université de l'Idaho, que j'appelle 36 vues des montagnes de Moscow: ou, Faire un grand voyage — l'esprit et le carnet ouvert — dans un petit lieu . Cet article explore la philosophie et les stratégies pédagogiques de ce cours, qui tente de partager avec les étudiants les vertus d'un regard neuf sur le monde, avec les yeux vraiment ouverts, avec le regard d'un voyageur, en "faisant un grand voyage" à Moscow, Idaho. Les étudiants affinent aussi leurs compétences d'écriture et apprennent les traditions littéraires et artistiques associées au voyage et au sens du lieu.

Index terms

Keywords: , designing a writing class to foster engagement.

1 The signs at the edge of town say, "Entering Moscow, Idaho. Population 25,060." This is a small hamlet in the midst of a sea of rolling hills, where farmers grow varieties of wheat, lentils, peas, and garbanzo beans, irrigated by natural rainfall. Although the town of Moscow has a somewhat cosmopolitan feel because of the presence of the University of Idaho (with its 13,000 students and a few thousand faculty and staff members), elegant restaurants, several bookstores and music stores, and a patchwork of artsy coffee shops on Main Street, the entire mini-metropolis has only about a dozen traffic lights and a single high school. As a professor of creative writing and the environmental humanities at the university, I have long been interested in finding ways to give special focuses to my writing and literature classes that will help my students think about the circumstances of their own lives and find not only academic meaning but personal significance in our subjects. I have recently taught graduate writing workshops on such themes as "The Body" and "Crisis," but when I was given the opportunity recently to teach an undergraduate writing class on Personal and Exploratory Writing, I decided to choose a focus that would bring me—and my students—back to one of the writers who has long been of central interest to me: Henry David Thoreau.

2 One of the courses I have routinely taught during the past six years is Environmental Writing, an undergraduate class that I offer as part of the university's Semester in the Wild Program, a unique undergraduate opportunity that sends a small group of students to study five courses (Ecology, Environmental History, Environmental Writing, Outdoor Leadership and Wilderness Survival, and Wilderness Management and Policy) at a remote research station located in the middle of the largest wilderness area (the Frank Church River of No Return Wilderness) in the United States south of Alaska. In "Teaching with Wolves," a recent article about the Semester in the Wild Program, I explained that my goal in the Environmental Writing class is to help the students "synthesize their experience in the wilderness with the content of the various classes" and "to think ahead to their professional lives and their lives as engaged citizens, for which critical thinking and communication skills are so important" (325). A foundational text for the Environmental Writing class is a selection from Thoreau's personal journal, specifically the entries he made October 1-20, 1853, which I collected in the 1993 writing textbook Being in the World: An Environmental Reader for Writers . I ask the students in the Semester in the Wild Program to deeply immerse themselves in Thoreau's precise and colorful descriptions of the physical world that is immediately present to him and, in turn, to engage with their immediate encounters with the world in their wilderness location. Thoreau's entries read like this:

Oct. 4. The maples are reddening, and birches yellowing. The mouse-ear in the shade in the middle of the day, so hoary, looks as if the frost still lay on it. Well it wears the frost. Bumblebees are on the Aster undulates , and gnats are dancing in the air. Oct. 5. The howling of the wind about the house just before a storm to-night sounds extremely like a loon on the pond. How fit! Oct. 6 and 7. Windy. Elms bare. (372)

3 In thinking ahead to my class on Personal and Exploratory Writing, which would be offered on the main campus of the University of Idaho in the fall semester of 2018, I wanted to find a topic that would instill in my students the Thoreauvian spirit of visceral engagement with the world, engagement on the physical, emotional, and philosophical levels, while still allowing my students to remain in the city and live their regular lives as students. It occurred to me that part of what makes Thoreau's journal, which he maintained almost daily from 1837 (when he was twenty years old) to 1861 (just a year before his death), such a rich and elegant work is his sense of being a traveler, even when not traveling geographically.

Traveling a Good Deal in Moscow

I have traveled a good deal in Concord…. --Henry David Thoreau, Walden (1854; 4)

4 For Thoreau, one did not need to travel a substantial physical distance in order to be a traveler, in order to bring a traveler's frame of mind to daily experience. His most famous book, Walden , is well known as an account of the author's ideas and daily experiments in simple living during the two years, two months, and two days (July 4, 1845, to September 6, 1847) he spent inhabiting a simple wooden house that he built on the shore of Walden Pond, a small lake to the west of Boston, Massachusetts. Walden Pond is not a remote location—it is not out in the wilderness. It is on the edge of a small village, much like Moscow, Idaho. The concept of "traveling a good deal in Concord" is a kind of philosophical and psychological riddle. What does it mean to travel extensively in such a small place? The answer to this question is meaningful not only to teachers hoping to design writing classes in the spirit of Thoreau but to all who are interested in travel as an experience and in the literary genre of travel writing.

5 Much of Walden is an exercise in deftly establishing a playful and intellectually challenging system of synonyms, an array of words—"economy," "deliberateness," "simplicity," "dawn," "awakening," "higher laws," etc.—that all add up to powerful probing of what it means to live a mindful and attentive life in the world. "Travel" serves as a key, if subtle, metaphor for the mindful life—it is a metaphor and also, in a sense, a clue: if we can achieve the traveler's perspective without going far afield, then we might accomplish a kind of enlightenment. Thoreau's interest in mindfulness becomes clear in chapter two of Walden , "Where I Lived, and What I Lived For," in which he writes, "Morning is when I am awake and there is a dawn in me. To be awake is to be alive. I have never yet met a man who was quite awake. How could I have looked him in the face?" The latter question implies the author's feeling that he is himself merely evolving as an awakened individual, not yet fully awake, or mindful, in his efforts to live "a poetic or divine life" (90). Thoreau proceeds to assert that "We must learn to reawaken and keep ourselves awake, not by mechanical aids, but by an infinite expectation of the dawn…. I know of no more encouraging fact than the unquestionable ability of man to elevate his life by a conscious endeavor" (90). Just what this endeavor might be is not immediately spelled out in the text, but the author does quickly point out the value of focusing on only a few activities or ideas at a time, so as not to let our lives be "frittered away by detail." He writes: "Simplicity, simplicity, simplicity! I say, let your affairs be as two or three, and not a hundred or a thousand; … and keep your accounts on your thumb nail" (91). The strong emphasis in the crucial second chapter of Walden is on the importance of waking up and living deliberately through a conscious effort to engage in particular activities that support such awakening. It occurs to me that "travel," or simply making one's way through town with the mindset of a traveler, could be one of these activities.

6 It is in the final chapter of the book, titled "Conclusion," that Thoreau makes clear the relationship between travel and living an attentive life. He begins the chapter by cataloguing the various physical locales throughout North America or around the world to which one might travel—Canada, Ohio, Colorado, and even Tierra del Fuego. But Thoreau states: "Our voyaging is only great-circle sailing, and the doctors prescribe for diseases of the skin merely. One hastens to Southern Africa to chase the giraffe; but surely that is not the game he would be after." What comes next is brief quotation from the seventeenth-century English poet William Habbington (but presented anonymously in Thoreau's text), which might be one of the most significant passages in the entire book:

Direct your eye sight inward, and you'll find A thousand regions in your mind Yet undiscovered. Travel them, and be Expert in home-cosmography. (320)

7 This admonition to travel the mysterious territory of one's own mind and master the strange cosmos of the self is actually a challenge to the reader—and probably to the author himself—to focus on self-reflection and small-scale, local movement as if such activities were akin to exploration on a grand, planetary scale. What is really at issue here is not the physical distance of one's journey, but the mental flexibility of one's approach to the world, one's ability to look at the world with a fresh, estranged point of view. Soon after his discussion of the virtues of interior travel, Thoreau explains why he left his simple home at Walden Pond after a few years of experimental living there, writing, "It is remarkable how easily and insensibly we fall into a particular route, and make a beaten track for ourselves" (323). In other words, no matter what we're doing in life, we can fall into a "beaten track" if we're not careful, thus failing to stay "awake."

8 As I thought about my writing class at the University of Idaho, I wondered how I might design a series of readings and writing exercises for university students that would somehow emulate the Thoreauvian objective of achieving ultra-mindfulness in a local environment. One of the greatest challenges in designing such a class is the fact that it took Thoreau himself many years to develop an attentiveness to his environment and his own emotional rhythms and an efficiency of expression that would enable him to describe such travel-without-travel, and I would have only sixteen weeks to achieve this with my own students. The first task, I decided, was to invite my students into the essential philosophical stance of the class, and I did this by asking my students to read the opening chapter of Walden ("Economy") in which he talks about traveling "a good deal" in his small New England village as well as the second chapter and the conclusion, which reveal the author's enthusiasm (some might even say obsession ) for trying to achieve an awakened condition and which, in the end, suggest that waking up to the meaning of one's life in the world might be best accomplished by attempting the paradoxical feat of becoming "expert in home-cosmography." As I stated it among the objectives for my course titled 36 Views of Moscow Mountain: Or, Traveling a Good Deal—with Open Minds and Notebooks—in a Small Place , one of our goals together (along with practicing nonfiction writing skills and learning about the genre of travel writing) would be to "Cultivate a ‘Thoreauvian' way of appreciating the subtleties of the ordinary world."

Windy. Elms Bare.

9 For me, the elegance and heightened sensitivity of Thoreau's engagement with place is most movingly exemplified in his journal, especially in the 1850s after he's mastered the art of observation and nuanced, efficient description of specific natural phenomena and environmental conditions. His early entries in the journal are abstract mini-essays on such topics as truth, beauty, and "The Poet," but over time the journal notations become so immersed in the direct experience of the more-than-human world, in daily sensory experiences, that the pronoun "I" even drops out of many of these records. Lawrence Buell aptly describes this Thoreauvian mode of expression as "self-relinquishment" (156) in his 1995 book The Environmental Imagination , suggesting such writing "question[s] the authority of the superintending consciousness. As such, it opens up the prospect of a thoroughgoing perceptual breakthrough, suggesting the possibility of a more ecocentric state of being than most of us have dreamed of" (144-45). By the time Thoreau wrote "Windy. Elms bare" (372) as his single entry for October 6 and 7, 1853, he had entered what we might call an "ecocentric zone of consciousness" in his work, attaining the ability to channel his complex perceptions of season change (including meteorology and botany and even his own emotional state) into brief, evocative prose.

10 I certainly do not expect my students to be able to do such writing after only a brief introduction to the course and to Thoreau's own methods of journal writing, but after laying the foundation of the Thoreauvian philosophy of nearby travel and explaining to my students what I call the "building blocks of the personal essay" (description, narration, and exposition), I ask them to engage in a preliminary journal-writing exercise that involves preparing five journal entries, each "a paragraph or two in length," that offer detailed physical descriptions of ordinary phenomena from their lives (plants, birds, buildings, street signs, people, food, etc.), emphasizing shape, color, movement or change, shadow, and sometimes sound, smell, taste, and/or touch. The goal of the journal entries, I tell the students, is to begin to get them thinking about close observation, vivid descriptive language, and the potential to give their later essays in the class an effective texture by balancing more abstract information and ideas with evocative descriptive passages and storytelling.

11 I am currently teaching this class, and I am writing this article in early September, as we are entering the fourth week of the semester. The students have just completed the journal-writing exercise and are now preparing to write the first of five brief essays on different aspects of Moscow that will eventually be braided together, as discrete sections of the longer piece, into a full-scale literary essay about Moscow, Idaho, from the perspective of a traveler. For the journal exercise, my students wrote some rather remarkable descriptive statements, which I think bodes well for their upcoming work. One student, Elizabeth Isakson, wrote stunning journal descriptions of a cup of coffee, her own feet, a lemon, a basil leaf, and a patch of grass. For instance, she wrote:

Steaming hot liquid poured into a mug. No cream, just black. Yet it appears the same brown as excretion. The texture tells another story with meniscus that fades from clear to gold and again brown. The smell is intoxicating for those who are addicted. Sweetness fills the nostrils; bitterness rushes over the tongue. The contrast somehow complements itself. Earthy undertones flower up, yet this beverage is much more satisfying than dirt. When the mug runs dry, specks of dark grounds remain swimming in the sunken meniscus. Steam no longer rises because energy has found a new home.

12 For the grassy lawn, she wrote:

Calico with shades of green, the grass is yellowing. Once vibrant, it's now speckled with straw. Sticking out are tall, seeding dandelions. Still some dips in the ground have maintained thick, soft patches of green. The light dances along falling down from the trees above, creating a stained-glass appearance made from various green shades. The individual blades are stiff enough to stand erect, but they will yield to even slight forces of wind or pressure. Made from several long strands seemingly fused together, some blades fray at the end, appearing brittle. But they do not simply break off; they hold fast to the blade to which they belong.

13 The point of this journal writing is for the students to look closely enough at ordinary reality to feel estranged from it, as if they have never before encountered (or attempted to describe) a cup of coffee or a field of grass—or a lemon or a basil leaf or their own body. Thus, the Thoreauvian objective of practicing home-cosmography begins to take shape. The familiar becomes exotic, note-worthy, and strangely beautiful, just as it often does for the geographical travel writer, whose adventures occur far away from where she or he normally lives. Travel, in a sense, is an antidote to complacency, to over-familiarity. But the premise of my class in Thoreauvian travel writing is that a slight shift of perspective can overcome the complacency we might naturally feel in our home surroundings. To accomplish this we need a certain degree of disorientation. This is the next challenge for our class.

The Blessing of Being Lost

14 Most of us take great pains to "get oriented" and "know where we're going," whether this is while running our daily errands or when thinking about the essential trajectories of our lives. We're often instructed by anxious parents to develop a sense of purpose and a sense of direction, if only for the sake of basic safety. But the traveler operates according to a somewhat different set of priorities, perhaps, elevating adventure and insight above basic comfort and security, at least to some degree. This certainly seems to be the case for the Thoreauvian traveler, or for Thoreau himself. In Walden , he writes:

…not until we are completely lost, or turned round,--for a man needs only be turned round once with his eyes shut in this world to be lost,--do we appreciate the vastness and strangeness of Nature. Every man has to learn the points of compass again as often as he awakes, whether from sleep or any abstraction. Not till we are lost, in other words, not till we have lost the world, do we begin to find ourselves, and realize where we are and the infinite extent of our relations. (171)

15 I could explicate this passage at length, but that's not really my purpose here. I read this as a celebration of salutary disorientation, of the potential to be lost in such a way as to deepen one's ability to pay attention to oneself and one's surroundings, natural and otherwise. If travel is to a great degree an experience uniquely capable of triggering attentiveness to our own physical and psychological condition, to other cultures and the minds and needs of other people, and to a million small details of our environment that we might take for granted at home but that accrue special significance when we're away, I would argue that much of this attentiveness is owed to the sense of being lost, even the fear of being lost, that often happens when we leave our normal habitat.

16 So in my class I try to help my students "get lost" in a positive way. Here in Moscow, the major local landmark is a place called Moscow Mountain, a forested ridge of land just north of town, running approximately twenty kilometers to the east of the city. Moscow "Mountain" does not really have a single, distinctive peak like a typical mountain—it is, as I say, more of a ridge than a pinnacle. When I began contemplating this class on Thoreauvian travel writing, the central concepts I had in mind were Thoreau's notion of traveling a good deal in Concord and also the idea of looking at a specific place from many different angles. The latter idea is not only Thoreauvian, but perhaps well captured in the eighteen-century Japanese artist Katsushika Hokusai's series of woodblock prints known as 36 Views of Mt. Fuji , which offers an array of different angles on the mountain itself and on other landscape features (lakes, the sea, forests, clouds, trees, wind) and human behavior which is represented in many of the prints, often with Mt. Fuji in the distant background or off to the side. In fact, I imagine Hokusai's approach to representing Mt. Fuji as so important to the concept of this travel writing class that I call the class "36 Views of Moscow Mountain," symbolizing the multiple approaches I'll be asking my students to take in contemplating and describing not only Moscow Mountain itself, but the culture and landscape and the essential experience of Moscow the town. The idea of using Hokusai's series of prints as a focal point of this class came to me, in part, from reading American studies scholar Cathy Davidson's 36 Views of Mount Fuji: On Finding Myself in Japan , a memoir that offers sixteen short essays about different facets of her life as a visiting professor in that island nation.

17 The first of five brief essays my students will prepare for the class is what I'm calling a "Moscow Mountain descriptive essay," building upon the small descriptive journal entries they've written recently. In this case, though, I am asking the students to describe the shapes and colors of the Moscow Mountain ridge, while also telling a brief story or two about their observations of the mountain, either by visiting the mountain itself to take a walk or a bike ride or by explaining how they glimpse portions of the darkly forested ridge in the distance while walking around the University of Idaho campus or doing things in town. In preparation for the Moscow Mountain essays, we read several essays or book chapters that emphasize "organizing principles" in writing, often the use of particular landscape features, such as trees or mountains, as a literary focal point. For instance, in David Gessner's "Soaring with Castro," from his 2007 book Soaring with Fidel: An Osprey Odyssey from Cape Cod to Cuba and Beyond , he not only refers to La Gran Piedra (a small mountain in southeastern Cuba) as a narrative focal point, but to the osprey, or fish eagle, itself and its migratory journey as an organizing principle for his literary project (203). Likewise, in his essay "I Climb a Tree and Become Dissatisfied with My Lot," Chicago author Leonard Dubkin writes about his decision, as a newly fired journalist, to climb up a tree in Chicago's Lincoln Park to observe and listen to the birds that gather in the green branches in the evening, despite the fact that most adults would consider this a strange and inappropriate activity. We also looked at several of Hokusai's woodblock prints and analyzed these together in class, trying to determine how the mountain served as an organizing principle for each print or whether there were other key features of the prints—clouds, ocean waves, hats and pieces of paper floating in the wind, humans bent over in labor—that dominate the images, with Fuji looking on in the distance.

18 I asked my students to think of Hokusai's representations of Mt. Fuji as aesthetic models, or metaphors, for what they might try to do in their brief (2-3 pages) literary essays about Moscow Mountain. What I soon discovered was that many of my students, even students who have spent their entire lives in Moscow, either were not aware of Moscow Mountain at all or had never actually set foot on the mountain. So we spent half an hour during one class session, walking to a vantage point on the university campus, where I could point out where the mountain is and we could discuss how one might begin to write about such a landscape feature in a literary essay. Although I had thought of the essay describing the mountain as a way of encouraging the students to think about a familiar landscape as an orienting device, I quickly learned that this will be a rather challenging exercise for many of the students, as it will force them to think about an object or a place that is easily visible during their ordinary lives, but that they typically ignore. Paying attention to the mountain, the ridge, will compel them to reorient themselves in this city and think about a background landscape feature that they've been taking for granted until now. I think of this as an act of disorientation or being lost—a process of rethinking their own presence in this town that has a nearby mountain that most of them seldom think about. I believe Thoreau would consider this a good, healthy experience, a way of being present anew in a familiar place.

36 Views—Or, When You Invert Your Head

19 Another key aspect of Hokusai's visual project and Thoreau's literary project is the idea of changing perspective. One can view Mt. Fuji from 36 different points of views, or from thousands of different perspectives, and it is never quite the same place—every perspective is original, fresh, mind-expanding. The impulse to shift perspective in pursuit of mindfulness is also ever-present in Thoreau's work, particularly in his personal journal and in Walden . This idea is particularly evident, to me, in the chapter of Walden titled "The Ponds," where he writes:

Standing on the smooth sandy beach at the east end of the pond, in a calm September afternoon, when a slight haze makes the opposite shore line indistinct, I have seen whence came the expression, "the glassy surface of a lake." When you invert your head, it looks like a thread of finest gossamer stretched across the valley, and gleaming against the distinct pine woods, separating one stratum of the atmosphere from another. (186)

20 Elsewhere in the chapter, Thoreau describes the view of the pond from the top of nearby hills and the shapes and colors of pebbles in the water when viewed from close up. He chances physical perspective again and again throughout the chapter, but it is in the act of looking upside down, actually suggesting that one might invert one's head, that he most vividly conveys the idea of looking at the world in different ways in order to be lost and awakened, just as the traveler to a distant land might feel lost and invigorated by such exposure to an unknown place.

21 After asking students to write their first essay about Moscow Mountain, I give them four additional short essays to write, each two to four pages long. We read short examples of place-based essays, some of them explicitly related to travel, and then the students work on their own essays on similar topics. The second short essay is about food—I call this the "Moscow Meal" essay. We read the final chapter of Michael Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemma (2006), "The Perfect Meal," and Anthony Bourdain's chapter "Where Cooks Come From" in the book A Cook's Tour (2001) are two of the works we study in preparation for the food essay. The three remaining short essays including a "Moscow People" essay (exploring local characters are important facets of the place), a more philosophical essay about "the concept of Moscow," and a final "Moscow Encounter" essay that tells the story of a dramatic moment of interaction with a person, an animal, a memorable thing to eat or drink, a sunset, or something else. Along the way, we read the work of Wendell Berry, Joan Didion, Barbara Kingsolver, Kim Stafford, Paul Theroux, and other authors. Before each small essay is due, we spend a class session holding small-group workshops, allowing the students to discuss their essays-in-progress with each other and share portions of their manuscripts. The idea is that they will learn about writing even by talking with each other about their essays. In addition to writing about Moscow from various angles, they will learn about additional points of view by considering the angles of insight developed by their fellow students. All of this is the writerly equivalent of "inverting [their] heads."

Beneath the Smooth Skin of Place

22 Aside from Thoreau's writing and Hokusai's images, perhaps the most important writer to provide inspiration for this class is Indiana-based essayist Scott Russell Sanders. Shortly after introducing the students to Thoreau's key ideas in Walden and to the richness of his descriptive writing in the journal, I ask them to read his essay "Buckeye," which first appeared in Sanders's Writing from the Center (1995). "Buckeye" demonstrates the elegant braiding together of descriptive, narrative, and expository/reflective prose, and it also offers a strong argument about the importance of creating literature and art about place—what he refers to as "shared lore" (5)—as a way of articulating the meaning of a place and potentially saving places that would otherwise be exploited for resources, flooded behind dams, or otherwise neglected or damaged. The essay uses many of the essential literary devices, ranging from dialogue to narrative scenes, that I hope my students will practice in their own essays, while also offering a vivid argument in support of the kind of place-based writing the students are working on.

23 Another vital aspect of our work together in this class is the effort to capture the wonderful idiosyncrasies of this place, akin to the idiosyncrasies of any place that we examine closely enough to reveal its unique personality. Sanders's essay "Beneath the Smooth Skin of America," which we study together in Week 9 of the course, addresses this topic poignantly. The author challenges readers to learn the "durable realities" of the places where they live, the details of "watershed, biome, habitat, food-chain, climate, topography, ecosystem and the areas defined by these natural features they call bioregions" (17). "The earth," he writes, "needs fewer tourists and more inhabitants" (16). By Week 9 of the semester, the students have written about Moscow Mountain, about local food, and about local characters, and they are ready at this point to reflect on some of the more philosophical dimensions of living in a small academic village surrounded by farmland and beyond that surrounded by the Cascade mountain range to the West and the Rockies to the East. "We need a richer vocabulary of place" (18), urges Sanders. By this point in the semester, by reading various examples of place-based writing and by practicing their own powers of observation and expression, my students will, I hope, have developed a somewhat richer vocabulary to describe their own experiences in this specific place, a place they've been trying to explore with "open minds and notebooks." Sanders argues that

if we pay attention, we begin to notice patterns in the local landscape. Perceiving those patterns, acquiring names and theories and stories for them, we cease to be tourists and become inhabitants. The bioregional consciousness I am talking about means bearing your place in mind, keeping track of its condition and needs, committing yourself to its care. (18)

24 Many of my students will spend only four or five years in Moscow, long enough to earn a degree before moving back to their hometowns or journeying out into the world in pursuit of jobs or further education. Moscow will be a waystation for some of these student writers, not a permanent home. Yet I am hoping that this semester-long experiment in Thoreauvian attentiveness and place-based writing will infect these young people with both the bioregional consciousness Sanders describes and a broader fascination with place, including the cultural (yes, the human ) dimensions of this and any other place. I feel such a mindfulness will enrich the lives of my students, whether they remain here or move to any other location on the planet or many such locations in succession.

25 Toward the end of "Beneath the Smooth Skin of America," Sanders tells the story of encountering a father with two young daughters near a city park in Bloomington, Indiana, where he lives. Sanders is "grazing" on wild mulberries from a neighborhood tree, and the girls are keen to join him in savoring the local fruit. But their father pulls them away, stating, "Thank you very much, but we never eat anything that grows wild. Never ever." To this Sanders responds: "If you hold by that rule, you will not get sick from eating poison berries, but neither will you be nourished from eating sweet ones. Why not learn to distinguish one from the other? Why feed belly and mind only from packages?" (19-20). By looking at Moscow Mountain—and at Moscow, Idaho, more broadly—from numerous points of view, my students, I hope, will nourish their own bellies and minds with the wild fruit and ideas of this place. I say this while chewing a tart, juicy, and, yes, slightly sweet plum that I pulled from a feral tree in my own Moscow neighborhood yesterday, an emblem of engagement, of being here.

Bibliography

BUELL, Lawrence, The Environmental Imagination: Thoreau, Nature Writing, and the Formation of American Culture , Harvard University Press, 1995.

DAVIDSON, Cathy, 36 Views of Mount Fuji: On Finding Myself in Japan , Duke University Press, 2006.

DUBKIN, Leonard, "I Climb a Tree and Become Dissatisfied with My Lot." Enchanted Streets: The Unlikely Adventures of an Urban Nature Lover , Little, Brown and Company, 1947, 34-42.

GESSNER, David, Soaring with Fidel: An Osprey Odyssey from Cape Cod to Cuba and Beyond , Beacon, 2007.

ISAKSON, Elizabeth, "Journals." Assignment for 36 Views of Moscow Mountain (English 208), University of Idaho, Fall 2018.

SANDERS, Scott Russell, "Buckeye" and "Beneath the Smooth Skin of America." Writing from the Center , Indiana University Press, 1995, pp. 1-8, 9-21.

SLOVIC, Scott, "Teaching with Wolves", Western American Literature 52.3 (Fall 2017): 323-31.

THOREAU, Henry David, "October 1-20, 1853", Being in the World: An Environmental Reader for Writers , edited by Scott H. Slovic and Terrell F. Dixon, Macmillan, 1993, 371-75.

THOREAU, Henry David, Walden . 1854. Princeton University Press, 1971.

Bibliographical reference

Scott Slovic , “ 36 Views of Moscow Mountain: Teaching Travel Writing and Mindfulness in the Tradition of Hokusai and Thoreau ” , Caliban , 59 | 2018, 41-54.

Electronic reference

Scott Slovic , “ 36 Views of Moscow Mountain: Teaching Travel Writing and Mindfulness in the Tradition of Hokusai and Thoreau ” , Caliban [Online], 59 | 2018, Online since 01 June 2018 , connection on 26 April 2024 . URL : http://journals.openedition.org/caliban/3688; DOI : https://doi.org/10.4000/caliban.3688

About the author

Scott slovic.

University of Idaho Scott Slovic is University Distinguished Professor of Environmental Humanities at the University of Idaho, USA. The author and editor of many books and articles, he edited the journal ISLE: Interdisciplinary Studies in Literature and Environment from 1995 to 2020. His latest coedited book is The Routledge Handbook of Ecocriticism and Environmental Communication (2019).

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62 | 2019 Female Suffrage in British Art, Literature and History
61 | 2019 Land’s Furrows and Sorrows in Anglophone Countries
60 | 2018 The Life of Forgetting in Twentieth- and Twenty-First-Century British Literature
59 | 2018 Anglophone Travel and Exploration Writing: Meetings Between the Human and Nonhuman
58 | 2017 The Mediterranean and its Hinterlands
57 | 2017 The Animal Question in Alice Munro's Stories
56 | 2016 Disappearances - American literature and arts
55 | 2016 Sharing the Planet
54 | 2015 Forms of Diplomacy (16 th -21 st century)
53 | 2015 Representing World War One: Art’s Response to War
52 | 2014 Caliban and his transmutations

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Describe Beach Setting Creative Writing Planner Activity
Describe Beach Setting Creative Writing Planner Activity
Beach Writing
💋 Descriptive writing about the beach. Beach Descriptive Writing. 2022
Fun beach house post we wrote to inspire those of you who own a beach
Practice Creative Writing with an On The Beach Writing Prompt Activity

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DREAM POP- Writing a song like BEACH HOUSE
Beach House Interior Design: Exploring Coastal Comfort Chic
3 GRADE BOOSTING Improvements YOU can use in YOUR CREATIVE WRITING response ft. @FirstRateTutors
How to Organically Describe POV Characters
Beach House
To Ne Dekha Hai Kabhi Ik Nazar Shaam Ke Baad

COMMENTS

Beach Description Essay: Descriptive Writing about a Beach in Summer
Description of a Beach. The beach appears to be alive and joyful with the presence of the natural vegetation. There are evergreen plantations both along and inside the beach. Images of buoyant seaweeds can be seen along the shore. Palms trees are seen to stand tall along the beach, dancing to the tune of the breeze emanating from the waters of ...
How to Describe a Beach in Writing (21 Best Tips & Examples)
While summer brings in crowds and vibrant energy, winter might render the beach desolate, with only the bravest souls venturing out. Describe these shifts to add depth to your narrative. 6. Sunlit Spectacles. The magic of a beach often unfolds during the golden hours.
Descriptive Writing: The Beach: [Essay Example], 716 words
Descriptive Writing: The Beach. The beach is a place of relaxation, peace, and tranquility for many people. Its vast expanse of sand, the soothing sound of waves crashing against the shore, and the gentle sea breeze create an atmosphere that is both invigorating and calming. In this essay, we will explore the sensory experiences and the beauty ...
Descriptive Short Story: The Beach
Enjoy this descriptive short story about the beach. As the sun shines happily on the cool, rippling surface of the sea, cars drive towards the nearest parking space like they would never have another chance to see this exquisite scene. Children are the first out, and they run frantically towards the sea, as if competing for a gold medal.
Creative Writing Inspiration and Ideas: 10 Beach Writing Prompts
The beach is also inspiring for us authors. Anything could be buried in the sand, or wash up on the shore. Everything we see is a beach writing prompt, if we only wonder where it came from, who the previous owner was.. Any kind of horror beach short story idea could be lurking in the darker depths of the sea, or a poetry idea related to the treasure waiting to be discovered on the seabed.
Beach
Beach - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing. Beach. - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing. Rocks of barnacle crown and seaweed garland adorn the beach as titan crowd. By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, May 2, 2023 . A chorus of sun-warmed grains sings the melody of the beaches right into my core.
How to Write a Beach Scene
Here are some words you can use: C. Smell: Seaweed/saltwater Feel: Humid sea air Gritty sand Cool water. D. Feelings: Relaxing Calm Quiet Peaceful Gentle. II. Use metaphors, similes and color to breathe life into your scene. The ocean is an aqua blue, the sand is pale yellow, and the sun is a fierce, hot yellow.
How to Write Killer Vacation Rental Listing Descriptions
Here are our top tips for writing vacation rental listing descriptions that will help generate more inquiries on your listing or website. 1. Appeal to your audience. The main task at hand here is to use vocabulary that will convince the right guests to book your place, so before you even begin planning to write your vacation rental descriptions ...
Unleashing Creativity: Inspiring Beach Story Ideas for Every Writer
The possibilities are endless, from heartwarming tales of summer romance to thrilling adventures of beachside mysteries. The beach can also be a transformation, discovery, or conflict setting. It's a canvas where human experiences intermingle with nature's drama, offering a rich tapestry of story ideas waiting to be woven. Contents show.
Describing scenes
A wet, dull day greeted Mary as she stepped into the grey light. Men huddled by in drab wet coats or stood in dismal doorways waiting for a bus which never seemed to arrive. In National 5 English ...
Descriptive Essay On The Beach House
Descriptive Essay On The Beach House. When walking down the beach with my toes squishing through the sand, I knew I was where I belonged. Smiling at everyone we passed, a certain girl caught my eye. She was relaxing in a chair right at the water's edge where the waves crashed over her feet. Accompanying her was a dog with a smile from ear to ...
Summer Selections: The House by The Sea
Summer Selections: The House by The Sea — Falmouth University English & Creative Writing. " Within six months of graduation I was earning an income from writing and have now performed alongside established writers at some great venues and events. — Nick Jarvis, Graduate and Poet in Residence, Bryn Hyfryd. apply to falmouth. @FalWriting on ...
Descriptive Essay about the Beach, How to Guide, Examples
Remember to review your work after writing. Free Descriptive Essay Samples About the Beach Sample 1. Last summer, I had the chance to visit my aunt at her coastal home. The octogenarian, I have to admit, lives in one of the world's most serene places. The beach is a fantastic phenomenon and the fun that comes along with it is overwhelming.
Descriptive A Visit To The Beach: [Essay Example], 792 words
The salty ocean scent floating in the wind. Walking down the beach, there is a campfire. The fire is burning as brightly as the sun rays. Majestic flames grabbed for the sky. Sitting down in the circle of people. A warm feeling lingering in the air. Shutting my eyes and deciding to activate my other senses.
Descriptive Writing: A Day at the beach
Discover Fun Worksheets on Writing. View all 1,548 Worksheets. Writing. Trace and Learn the Shape Worksheet. Make ELA practice a joyride by tracing and learning shapes. Pre-K. Writing. Trace Along the Lines Worksheet. Enhance your linguistic skills by tracing along the lines with this worksheet.
The Beach [writing prompt]
PRACTICE. Write about the beach. Write for fifteen minutes. When you're finished, post your practice in the comments section. And if you post, please comment on a few pieces by other writers. Photo by Vince Alongi. Here's my practice: On Friday evening, he arrived at the house and immediately got Amber on her leash and went out to the beach.
Descriptive Essay About Beach House
Descriptive Essay About Beach House. 860 Words2 Pages. Everybody has a gateway destination that brings them happiness, peace, where for a few days the time slows down and you live out every full moment and for me that would be the beach house on Seal Rock. This beach house has brought me many great memories with my family ever since the age of ...
Creative Writing: to Walk on The Beach
Walking on the beach is a simple yet profound experience that has captivated humans for generations. The feeling of warm sand beneath your feet, the sound of crashing waves, and the vast expanse of the ocean stretching out before you all contribute to a sense of peace and tranquility. This essay will explore the creative potential of walking on ...
Descriptive Writing Of A Beach
This candidate's response to this Writing to Describe task is a very competent one that uses a number of descriptive techniques in order to convey the strong imagery of a fictional beach. There is a wide range of linguistic techniques used, including simile, metaphor and personification, though in some parts the impact is lost due to a poor understanding of the needs for commas (comma splice e ...
Description of a beach
Description of a beach. by mango1 (student) GCSE English. The enclosed beach is silent. The sun is blinding at it emerges; it rises like a yellow balloon on the distant horizon. As the sun gradually starts to appear, a new day unfolds. As the gentle waves lap against the shore, a shoal of crowded fish dart to and frow.
A Literary Tour Of Moscow
1. Nikolay Gogol Museum. Located in the heart of Moscow, close to the Arbat Square, is this ancient town mansion. This is the only Museum of Nikolay Gogol in Russia dedicated entirely to the life and work of the master writer. Cast iron gates lead into the courtyard, where you can explore the monument to the writer.
36 Views of Moscow Mountain: Teaching Travel Writing and Mindfulness in
BUELL, Lawrence, The Environmental Imagination: Thoreau, Nature Writing, and the Formation of American Culture, Harvard University Press, 1995. DAVIDSON, Cathy, 36 Views of Mount Fuji: On Finding Myself in Japan, Duke University Press, 2006. DUBKIN, Leonard, "I Climb a Tree and Become Dissatisfied with My Lot." Enchanted Streets: The Unlikely Adventures of an Urban Nature Lover, Little, Brown ...
21 Things to Know Before You Go to Moscow
1: Off-kilter genius at Delicatessen: Brain pâté with kefir butter and young radishes served mezze-style, and the caviar and tartare pizza. Head for Food City. You might think that calling Food City (Фуд Сити), an agriculture depot on the outskirts of Moscow, a "city" would be some kind of hyperbole. It is not.