December Beach Days in Hawaii A beach in Hawaii on a December day is like day at a lake in mid a August. The beach smells fresh‚ almost like a new ocean breeze air freshener The sand is hot and looks like gold blended in with little white specks‚ it sparkles like the water running offthe swimmers back and feels like walking on coals from buming grill. Not far from the a shore‚ you can see the coral sitting still in the wild and shallow water. Turtles drift in to see all the people. The palm
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to be bothered and a bit frustrated. Then I realized "I am in California! The beach is literally outside my window and God gave me a glorious day to get up and go enjoy!" So I listened to God and got out of bed and was going to take the hotel van into town to get a coffee and paper when I noticed a sign saying "bikes for rent"-- so I again listened to the signs that God was clearly giving me for what he intended my day to be like and journeyed off on the bike. God is so wonderful. He created the
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jump into the calm blue waters that lay below. Once submerged‚ I open my eyes and notice the small pearl-like bubbles rising and rays of sunlight streaming into the water around me. The sensation of breathing underwater remains unnerving to this day. Underneath the water lays a large expanse of coral with such an amazing array of bright and vibrant colors that it looks to have been painted; this is my destination today. Approaching the reef‚ I notice an assortment of lively colored fish‚ darting
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The day dawned bright and sunny. It was ideal for a picnic by the sea. We quickly packed some refreshments and swimming costumes‚ not forgetting our cameras and deck chairs. Excitedly‚ we drove off from the city of George Town through the picturesque fishing village near Tanjung Tokong in Penang‚ waiting to catch a glimpse of the sea. At last‚ we sighted the blue waters‚ sparkling in the sunlight. We looked out for a clean and shady spot to spend the day as we cruised along. It was a joy to
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near the water. The tall water grasses growing a few yards from the beach launch were turning brown and brittle from the constant sun (Woodford). It was supposed to be a hot summer‚ but even I didn’t think it was going to be this sweltering. This was my first job ever‚ and I was so excited to finally have something to do during summer break. I wished I could be out sailing with the other group‚ but right then I had to stay on the beach and do my job. Nobody told me this summer job was going to be like
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room of your beach house. Notice that I said your beach house. You’ll come in from the beach by way of the deck that faces the Gulf. He’ll be sitting with his back to you and I will introduce you as my baby. Then I’ll say to you‚ “Get my friend a glass of Ruffino‚ the Reserve‚ or the best bottle of Italian wine we have.” You can’t find it so I get up and get the silencer and shoot him three times in his big red head. We pick him up‚ wrap him in a blanket‚ a blanket which I
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I was in Edisto beach running on an old wood dock. Not knowing that things were going to go bad fast. I hear the board snap and my sister starts screaming as if she was in a horror movie for mom. My knee was num as if it was a dead fish. I looked at me knee and knew my vacation was ruined. I got out of my car as I smelt the salty water‚ as the cool breeze hit me with the bright sun behind me. I was with my whole family this year and my mom’s friends had came as well. I thought this year
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boyfriend Toby and I were doing the “meet the parents” trip. His parents lived close to the ocean. I was ecstatic. About the ocean‚ not meeting the parents. The drive to the beach seemed interminable. Finding parking was another hassle. The stress of the journey was overshadowing the destination. But once on the beach I was hooked. I joined the pattern of so many before me. I bent and picked up a shell. With that first shell in hand I had begun my quest to find treasure. At home they are
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as the Permit/City government coordinator for the Dream Catchers Association Family Fun Walk/Jog/Run. This experience has been a personal and rewarding one‚ as well as one of hope and vision. I became my own coach while navigating through this narrative process of rewrite. I have attempted to retell in the third person and added several ideals to outcomes of the situation. Fairfield is the town between Vallejo and Vacaville. In the southwest corner of Fairfield‚ there sits a vibrant bedroom
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people; I had a good feeling about this guy. He called two days before Memorial Day and ordered a silk cemetery piece for his mother and one for his father. Not too unusual‚ since my sister and I owned a small flower shop in our hometown and it is common for out-of-state customers to have us deliver their orders to graves they are not able to visit. The fact one piece was to be delivered 25 miles away‚ wasn’t a request we had every day. His mother was buried in our town’s largest cemetery‚ but
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