ocean shore - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
Soft sky above, sharp stones underfoot and the clouds caressed with reflected light. The lacy waves are a drumbeat that echo my heart, the breeze blows the tension right out of my bones and all the while the birds arc above, masters of the salty updrafts.
The ocean shore is a gateway, a place where the aquatic and terrestrial worlds collide. With my furless skin I could have belonged beneath the brine, had evolution taken a different fork. Then it would be I in the cool waters peeking at the dry world above, curious as to what lay on the land. But my lungs are of a land dweller and my limbs cannot swim all day long. So it is for me to see the orange kissed sky with eyes better suited for life underwater, to see the rusty hues reflected in the blackening waves, while I yearn to explore the dominion of our aquatic cousins.
The ocean shore lies jagged, the rocky outcrops a torn piece of paper where they meet the rushing waves. The shore is everything at once, every sense bombarded in a way that brings my mind to elevated thought. Eyes open there is every shade of blue before me, every shade from white to browns and greys at my feet. Eyes closed there is the cool breeze, stealing warmth, giving me the taste and smell of the brine. The ocean's music takes command of my ears with crashing waves and the cries of the gulls. The pebbles push into my soles, shifting as my body leans more to one side or the other. Behind me the cliff face rises sharply, graphite in the autumn sun. Between rock and wave I stand intoxicated on the breath of mother earth, of nature and all the wonders she holds.
We walk along the ocean shore, no-one speaking a word, everyone lost in their own torrid thought. The rocks shift unhelpfully underfoot, testing our agility and sense of balance. Once in a while Jackson lets out one of his flurry of swears, most of them ones he made up in the inner city. They're a bit colourful for some of the others but to me he's pure entertainment. If I have to flee for my life along a shoreline best suited for crabs and barnacles, I'm glad to have him with me.
The shore was a graceful arc of sand, glittering under the summer sun, a place for a placid ocean to lap. The waves rolled in with a soothing sound, the salty water a brief flurry of sand. Every few meters of so lay a shell, a treasure of the aquatic world just out of reach, and the footprints they left behind were soon erased.
The small, wet pebbles that lined the beach sparkled in the lingering light of sunset. The water was almost still, small waves occasionally hitting the beach with little force. I reached down to pick one up, running my thumb over its smooth surface. It was perfectly round, with no sharp edges or jagged curves. I swung my arm back and flicked my wrist, watching the small pebble skip across the surface of the sea.
As time elapses endlessly I sit here amongst the saline ocean shore retrospectively reflecting on my life. The water is scorching hot as it crashes violently against the rough, golden sand, obliterating all to be seen. The amber lukewarm sun glistens elegantly in the pale blue sky as clouds cascade to and fro. A white blanket of froth forms as the tide gradually approaches the shore. I begin to feel neglected, isolated and restricted from the rest of the world. A sense of nostalgia gushes through my body as it feels as if I have been here for ever consulting with my self. Nothing is to be heard nor seen no sign of hope no form of civilisation, nothing at all. Just me and the tranquillising waves which crash vigorously against the shore.
They approached an ocean, vast and clear. Waves of turquoise lapped up on the sandy shores, kissing their boots and leaving a foamy trail.