Friday, August 30, 2019

The Beach/the Storm Descriptive Writing

The Beach. A storm brews above. People escape the beach, quickly grabbing their possessions as rain spits down on them. Music from cafes and fare rides come to a halt as their customers quickly disappear and the happy sounds of laughter echo around the empty beach. A gloomy shadow descends over the sea. Feeble light from the few surviving streetlights and lanterns appear to dim as the dark clouds move across the sky like a creeping panther. Birds silence their song and flee to safer places. Sandcastles with small motes, which surrounded them, are now filled with seawater. Any last remaining footsteps disappear and are quickly buried beneath the sand. The wind teases the scattered rubbish†¦ picking it up then quickly releasing it again. People shelter in cars waiting for the storm to pass†¦their windscreen wipers furiously fighting against the increasingly powerful rain. Waves rage upon the sand, sending sand back and forth as they go. They crash against the sea wall, shooting upwards and spraying the abandoned cafes and shops. Yachts begin to rock with the waves; they are like a gymnast balancing on a beam about to fall any second. The pier fights against the drowning waves as they attempt to bring it under the surface. Trees surrender at the battering wind, forcing leaves and branches to be torn off their trunks. A bird-usually so in control of its own destiny-fights the beast as it toys with it playfully. The once clear sky is now full of thick cloud, staining the sky a deadly shade of indigo, forever darkening like a lid closing on a box trapping darkness inside it. The saturated clouds start to rumble. Below them, the streets are lifeless as no one dares leave their secure houses for the extreme weather outside. Thunder shakes the clouds, as its loud rumble echoes around the empty beach. The smell of the sea overpowers the old, lingering smell of chips and candyfloss, now only a stench of salt and seaweed are left. Sand storms are whipping up from the shore into the air and circling in the wind. CRASH! Lightning illuminates the sky and forks downwards to strike a boat, like a spear would to catch a fish. The smoke from the explosion is quickly carried off by the wind and the remains of the boat are rapidly dragged under the waves. The weather torments seagulls with the sight of dead fish washing up onto the shore, yet there is no other choice but to stay in hiding. The icy winds whistle around every rock and under every doorway; not even warm houses can be protected from the chill of the storm. On the shore waves crash against rocks and onto the sand, shattering shells with its immense pressure. The lighthouse is left to fend for itself on the cliff, yet its light has no purpose, as the sea is empty†¦no one would dare venture out into the vicious sea. * * * * * The sound of rain now overpowers the quietening rumble of thunder. Rays from the sun push through the cloud and release the shadow from the sea. Wind still pulls at the sea splashing waves upon the shore, making pebbles jerk against one another. The trees release tension from their exhausted roots. Birds finally venture out into the unsteady weather after their long wait for food. A tempting scent in the air of brewing coffee comes back and drowns the sea-salt smell. Waves still press against the sea wall sending a light spray of water up into the wind. A final deposit of light drizzle falls into the shore. The sun peeks through the last remaining cloud and lights up the shoreline, to reveal the dazzling sight again. The happy fare-ground tune starts again and the merry-go-round begins to buzz with life again, bringing with it once more the familiar sound of laughter.

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