English Essay - Sunset

As I lay down onto the tiny golden grains of sand, I looked up at the opal sky cut with streaks of pink and orange and purple, resembling the colours of a perfectly ripened peach. The sun’s goddess-like face is being caressed by the glistening navy fingertips of the horizon. Mountains rise up on either side of me like giant pillows of green and stone flecked with a palette of purple and yellow, sturdy arms wrapping around the bay.

Fishermen with sticks are perched on the edge, like vultures eagerly stalking their prey, whilst young boys effortlessly climbed the rocks in search of pools filled with all kinds of salty treasures. A speedboat soared by, skipping on the water like the small, flat river stones from camp in last autumn. A flock of swallow cast a soft shadow onto the gentle ripples of the water as they gracefully glided by in their militant formation.

I reach to my left, burying my hand into the sand, and then rhythmically sifting the small, worthless stones through the gaps between my fingers. Left in the sandy palm of my hand was a familiar object – Turkish delight. A smooth, almost perfect cube of delicate rose-coloured glass. I lift it up to the rapidly vanishing sunlight, where it glints like dew drops and exposes a subtle rainbow of colours within its translucent walls.

My ears are filled with the joyous laughter of a baby’s first day at the beach, and along with the rhythmic sound of multiple waves crashing to shore it creates a soothing melodic composition. A pair of friends lazily stroll by, their lips lushly coated with vanilla and strawberry, their ice-creams melting under the heat of the surrounding air. Tiny droplets of pink and white leave trails down the backside of their caramel hands, only to land softly in small rounds on the sand to my right.

The sun is sinking into the horizon, but is still illuminating several cotton candy clouds in the sky, outlining them with a fine gold paintbrush. I realise that it has become quite late – not a single fisherman in sight and the baby had retired with his parents to their home after a long day of playing in the welcoming heat of this textbook summer’s day.

I sit up, arching my back and hugging my knees into my chest, feeling the sand drizzle off my back. As I sit here, alone on the deserted beachfront that was filled with the excitement of summer just an instant ago, I watch the last sliver of daylight slip gently behind the black curtain of the skyline.