The Descriptive Essay About the Beach
The beach was a blaze of parasols, hot colours to match the burning sand underfoot. Against the percussion of the waves was the laughter of the crowd, coming in bursts, rolling like the ocean.
The beach was gentle beneath my bare feet. Tips of shells peeked from holes, made by little creatures, seeking safety in the soft sand. Mini dunes of beige dust soon to be soaked by the sea were gradually creeping their way further onto shore. The sun's rays peacefully floated, resting on the warm waters. Timid clouds were rarely exposed, leaving the sky to beam blue. A white ribbon of cliffs and rocks surrounded me and the bay, guarding us from what lies beyond. My ears invite in the quiet whisper of waves, sharing the ocean's secrets. A graceful song, when bird’s calm calls break the silence in the settled scene.
The crowd had a life of its own, the vibrant clothes shining in the morning light and the people moving like enchanting shoals of fish. There was chatter between sellers and buyers, old friends catching up, new friends being made. It's busy for sure, but the hustle and bustle brings life to this beach I wouldn't want to be without.
Despite the heat of the sun beating down, the salty seawater seemed stimulating. The fresh air’s salty smell tickled my nose; light kisses from the occasional breeze sending tingling sensations through my very body. I shivered despite the warmth and looked around. The scene was littered with people enjoying the best of the British weather; a smile etched on every face.
I see 2 young kids stumble onto the moist sand, with buckets and spades in their grasp, shouting and talking in excitement; damp sand forced between their toes. Their mother calls them back from behind and smothers thick sun cream on both their faces and leaves them to continue their adventure. The kids weave their way through the crowd looking for a fresh canvas for their sand castles. They dig with enthusiasm and fill their plastic moulds before emptying its content onto the floor in to form a sand castle. A very poor sandcastle at that. I find their parents struggling onto the sand, carrying the day’s supplies like camels in the desert.
The sheer volume of people has me mesmerised. I never would have thought the beach to have a capacity of a few thousand people all chattering, playing and enjoying life at its best, with room to spare.