ocean breeze - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
The ocean breeze whispers like a lover, placing salty kisses on my cheek and tousling my long auburn hair. On days like this it playfully fillis the sails of the harbour boats, flutters their flags and pushes along the clouds. I smile back and stretch out my bare hand like a star-fish to feel it wrap around my fingers. But I never forget that this breeze is just a mere hint of its power, that when roused it can toss whole ships like toys to smash on the rocks. Sometimes I come here when the wind is driving the waves to crash as far as the road, sending white spray high in the air. Then it coats my eyelashes in salt and roars so loud no other sound can penetrate. But today the breeze tells of only sweetness and joy. I stand here content, whole, happy.
She closed her eyes to the lullaby of the ocean, breathing in it's poigant salty breath.
Lucas didn't care that the sand was damp from the night's rain. He sat right down and let it soak right through his jeans. Then he took off his shirt and faced the waves, toward the rising sun. The ocean breeze on his chest took him right back to childhood. The salty taste of the air on his tongue and the scent of the sea in his nostrils was like a time warp and when he closed his eyes he could hear his father laughing at him falling backwards onto his sandcastle. It had stung at the time, he'd thought it mean that his father should find it so very funny. But now that hearty sound was a treasured memory. By the time the sun was up fully he'd be long gone, off to a days work at the market.
The ocean breeze coats Greg's skin in a light mist of brine leaving it salty to taste. When we get home every kiss will remind us of the waves that pound the beach in white foam spray, but right now it's just the perfect coolness to keep our minds right here in the present where we're happiest.
In these sultry days even the ocean breeze is hot. The shore is more reminiscent of opening an oven on baking day than standing on the sand, salty waves engulfing bare toes.
The ocean breeze is enough to blow errant strands of hair back toward the road behind, but not sufficient to bring the keen bite of winter wind. Yet the sand is so cold underfoot that this will be my last barefoot walk of the season, next time will be in boots and woollen socks.
A cool draught of air whips over the waves, bringing a taste of the ocean with it. It is the unseen part of the shoreline that conjures more memories than the pebbles or the rotting posts of the old pier. It howls in a low whistle, tossing my hair every bit as roughly as the ocean at my feet. It is the feel and taste of home.
The light as gone but there is no mistaking where we are. Through the moonless night comes the rhythmic pounding of the waves and always the salty air moving gently over our skin, flicking the tiniest grains of sand into our semi-closed eyes.