The shock of the frigid water takes my breath away and I am momentarily stunned; however, my body quickly adjusts to the nippy water. The still of the water is broken by the half-a-hundred ripples, circling on and on, spreading from the center, in my brother’s attempt to skip a stone on the water. “Whoa,” my little brother says in astonishment, in awe of the gust of wind that blows the small ripples in the water into the swells of the sea, which would soon be chuckling and surging with laughter as they toss little boats across the surface of the ocean. As I turn to admire Andrew’s satisfaction with the beauty of nature, I find that he has built his own sand castle, in which the grains of sand glisten in the sun like a diamond ring. As I take a deep breath in, the scent, which has a slight pinch of sulfur, and a briny finish fills my nose. My brother waits eagerly and stamps impatiently. “Daniel, hurry up! It’s my turn to use the net!” Coming down the shore in his floral print swim trunks, my brother grins and hands it over. As I gaze to the far off horizon, the flaring hues of the sun, like that of a gold medallion, melt into the ocean and sky like a divine painting. We are off to the tide pools, to meet the little schools of fish and crabs that swim joyfully, and where we would …show more content…
Gorgeous and shiny shells wash into the shore by the rippling of the water. At the golden hour, seashells sparkle in the sun that shines from Heaven, along the water's edge. I place a conch shell, found by my brothers, against my ear, and I hear the tranquil roar of waves crashing on the beach, as if the sounds from the shell’s past environment are still echoing inside of it. I imagine the startling greens, blues, yellows, and reds that paint the creatures by the ridge of rocks in the sea. Hollow, indented rocks provide space for ocean currents to flow in and out. The foamy tide sprays against the jagged rocks. Crabs crawl into rock crevasses inside tide pools. Walking along the jagged rocks, I realized that I was just short of catching the one whose pinchers themselves were works of art, whose sapphire-tinted claws display a brilliant Atlantic