Author Topic: The Beach  (Read 2532 times)

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The Beach
« on: December 18, 2006, 09:12:27 PM »
 It\'s simply a wide, wild stretch of land where the earth meets the sea.
 Southward, the beach is nothing but a series of treacherous cliffs pockmarked with tide pools- a wonderful place to explore, should you ever feel the itch for such a thing. And have relatively good footing.
 The transition from cliff to sand is rather sudden- three-thirds of the beach is just that, a beach. Toward the land, in some areas, there are tall dunes interspersed with various seaside life and dusted with gnarled scrub- but there are also simple, sweet, stretches of bare sand.
 The sea is like a living thing- massive, roiling, green, whispering and hissing in the rocks, crashing and charging playfully over the sand. It\'s a place to get away from the hustle and danger of the city and simply enjoy nature as it is.
 [written by Cy]
 The drop off into the rolling waves and pounding surf below is quite impressive. From the vantage point above the sea, one can see for miles on a clear day, and the wind whips and stirs about the smell of the ocean pleasantly-- if one likes that sort of thing.
 The rocks itself are slowly, slowly being reshaped by the waves, but for the time being they remain much the same; little plants sprout up from between faults in the stone and earth.
 Below the cliffs are stones that are only accessible during low tide during which the pools of seawater and life are visible. Crabs scurry about and muscles cling to the rocks and it\'s all quite lovely... just get out of there before the tide comes back in, the ocean is not something to be trifled with.
 [written by Cricket]
 Sitting near a rocky ledge, where the ocean and the wall of earthen stone meet and crash together like two titans at war, stands a white building with broken windows and misplaced tiles on the roof. The lighthouse once an object used to bring sailors home now sits lonely and waits for passerbyers to explore. Inside the house lays a stray table, a broken teapot stradded on the floor and a painted picture of haystacks. The house doesn\'t hold any modern day appliances within, just a wood burning stove and a old icebox. There can be found under the cot in one of the corners a stack of national geographic magazines and a rosery.
 A nest sits in one of the crevices and was once a place for a mother sparrow and her young. They have long gone now, as seasons changed. The lighthouse itself holds rements of red paint on its roof and rotted iron to the stairs leading to the the light. The light house still works, however it not clearly seen in the daytime. At night it shines out to the sea with all its orginal strength, calling for those lost and in need of guidence. However since the caretaker is long gone, only time will tell when the light ceases to exist.
 [written by Incognito]