A Day at the Beach

DESRCRIPTIVE ESSAY
I glance and take a quick look at the weather, 78 degrees in Malibu, California. Perfect. The two hour drive from the Bakersfield, increases my anticipation as my brother and I listen to relaxing music, ecstatic to leave behind the horrible congested weather of Bakersfield. As the farms and mountains race by in a blur, I dream about the rest of my day at the beach.
When we finally arrive after what feels like days, I run from the parking lot the to the oceansideµ, I inhale the cool, clear, and almost heavenly air of the beach. The salt water traces the air with a unique scent that triggers my memories coming to the beach as a toddler. The clear and sunny skies fill me with energy; I feel reborn, as if I entered an entirely new world.
While I stroll down the picturesque beach in Malibu, my feet leave imprints across the wet sands, like the concrete imprint stars in Hollywood, only to be washed away and left smooth without sign of previous life by the unconquerable sea. Far along the golden beach, seagulls chirp and float on the sand scavenging for fish and crab, like young children scrambling for candy released from a piñata. The majestic ocean glimmers in the bright sun like sparkling diamonds, while the clarity of the water allows me to glimpse my reflection and view the smooth sandy bottom.
I walk along the surf as the water laps against my ankle. The hear waves softly and peacefully crash on the shore; retreating just as quickly, leave a foamy, frothy material on the banks of the shore like (analogy?). As the water retreats, it drags sand along with it, moving the ground under me, as I slowly sink. I feel each grain of the gritty wet sand, as it sticks to and tickles my feet. As I walk further into the surf, the ocean bottom turns rough and rocky and pinches my sensitive feet and jars me back to reality. I notice a few smooth round rocks perfect for skipping. As a tradition, my brother and I duel each other in a contest to find who can the skip a stone the most times.
After enjoying my time for a few hours, I stop and pull out my bright blue beach towel and set it higher on the beach, out of reach of the perpetual waves. I (lie or lay?) on top of my towel, I don my sunglasses and feel the bright sun shining kissing my skin; it almost feels like the sun’s rays work magic and infect everything it touches with joys and happiness. An occasional wispy cloud drifts across the sky, while I try to identify what it resembles. I smell the strong scent of the suntan lotion from other people as they pass by my towel.
At the end of the day, I stare down the horizon beyond the endless sea, as it merges with the sky, almost without a distinction. The slow setting sun creates the illusion of the ocean swallowing the glimmering sun as the water reflects the slow dimming colors of the sun. I stand transfixed on the awe-inspiring image, as the beauty of this serene and peaceful moment paralyzes me with awe comforts and relaxes the mind.