rocks underwater - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
Salt water pooled around my knees, calm and ambient. Each bare foot rested upon smooth rocks; rocks too pretty to be left untouched. I bent down, scooping one in cupped hands, careful to keep my sunhat balanced upon my head. The rock pressed my skin like an oceanic kiss and glistened with the light of the sun. I released it into the briny air, watching for the arcing splash, feeling as if time itself was as spellbound as I. Before I knew it, I was gathering another from below, mesmerized even before I gave it flight.
The rocks underwater are smooth, every roughness had been worn away by over eons by the flow of the gentle river. It is shallow here and I can wade out with my skirt hitched to my knees. Then I clasp the light crepe fabric in one fist and bend down to pick up a white stone. It sits cold and heavy on my palm and I marvel at it's beauty. Cast in the first rays of the morning it is a jewel. After a few moments more I throw it back in, far away so I am not tempted to reclaim it. I know that once it dries it will be just a dull pebble, and I prefer to recall it as beautiful. Better a pretty memory than a constant disappointment.
When I first started to dive I would miss judge the depth. I could see the rocks on the ocean floor as clearly as a picture on my plasma TV at home. That's the Mediterranean for you, crystal clear. They'd seem maybe ten feet down, but after I'd been diving a minute, holding my breath, they'd still be a way off and my lungs would be screaming for fresh air. I've learnt to hold my breath for longer and I've learnt to judge distances better. I've been saving up for scuba gear, next year I'll have enough. Then I'm going back to all those places I want to go that are too deep.
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.