Descriptive essay Calmly glancing at the ocean

High school students from Ashland, Dalton, Hillsdale, Mapleton, Northwestern, Norwayne, Orrville and Triway participated in the 2005 Literary Contest sponsored by Tri-County Educational Service Center, The Daily Record and Ashland Times-Gazette. The following descriptive essay earned second place.By AMANDA PORTERTriway High SchoolI am a mere 18 years old. I have everyday problems. I deal with loss, happiness, disappointment, and hope the same as any other 18-year-old. I know, however, a place where I can feel as innocent as a 5-year-old or as wise as a 60-year-old. This place is significant to me because it makes me forget the trials of everyday life. This place holds no time, no worries, and no problems. This place is where I find peace in company or alone. This place is the ocean.The ocean is a reminder that problems are insignificant and that humans are simply inadequate compared to nature. Humans believe that they are so much greater than everything. This is not true. If someone stands in front of the ocean, he can see for miles. It is endless, unlike life.It is easy to get lost in it all. If someone walks barefoot to the shore, he can feel the softness of the sand. The waves lap at this ankles leaving a salty residue that can sometimes annoy. Things in life are just the same. Pleasurable things may often bring discomfort. I can stand forever in front of the ocean. I love how the sun beats down on my face, tanning my skin and making my cheeks bright red. The air smells of salt and pine. The waves play songs that tickle my ears. The seagulls accompany me with pretty cries.When I stand in front of the ocean, I feel such a strong respect. In front of my eyes is a community living and breathing in harmony. The creatures of the sea and shore do not care about business meetings and cell phones. There is no time schedule. I wish humans could learn this important lesson. Life is fragile and we are all just trying to survive.The ocean is so special to me because I can place everything into perspective when I am there. My problems do not seem so big and life actually seems conquerable. When I dig my feet into the sand, I can feel the grains. They remind me of a poem I had to read once. It talked about how people are like grains of sand. We are here for a short time, then we are washed away and forgotten. It is the circle of life and it is truthful. Humans may not live forever, but we will always be a part of something larger. I try to imagine my problems are like those grains of sand, quick to come and quick to go.There is a popular song in which the singer says, "I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean." I hope so too. The ocean is so huge and vast that when you stand next to it, you feel insignificant. The small frame of a person is invisible with the water mass behind him. This feeling of something so much larger and complex humbles me. I wish the whole world could get that life changing feeling. There would be fewer egos, less betrayal, and less selfishness.The ocean is the one place I can go to find peace. I personally feel that it defines beauty. The crashing of the waves, the scent of the air, the feel of the sand, all of this is beauty. We all need to slow down in life and recognize this. The ocean humbles me, reminds me that my problems are not worth any sorrow, and helps me to remember the important things in life. I can only hope that as anyone stands on the shore with the wind lifting his hair and the waves coating his feet, that he feels these feelings just by glancing at the sea.

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Archive for the ‘ describing the sea ’ tag, describing a calm sea   33 comments.

Describing a calm sea: 25 descriptive sentences using onomatopoeia and 5 paragraphs

Describing a calm sea: this post is taken from the ultimate descriptive book ‘Writing with Stardust’ by Liam O’ Flynn, now available on Amazon. I hope it provides the information you require or, at the very least, the inspiration to create your own sentences. I have also included Levels 1-5 taken from the book if you wish to describe the beach with the 5 senses.

If you wish for any more information on ‘Writing with Stardust’, or any of Liam’s other books, just click on the book images below. They will take you into the Amazon bookstore. I hope you enjoy the post.

                               DESCRIBING A CALM SEA

A dreamy sea has a rhythmic pulse to it unmatched by any other part of nature. It forges its own sounds and kindles its own symphony. The following 25 sentences are an attempt to capture the song of the sea and its steady, throbbing heartbeat. If you find yourself visualising its glorious vastness, its dreamy surface and straining to hear its metronomic wave music, you may understand why it’s called the fisherman’s friend.

  • The sea was buzzing with its dormant strength.
  • The waves were crawling gently to the shore.
  • The waves were creeping steadily towards us.
  • The dreamy sea was its own master.
  • The waves were gently drenching the sand.
  • The sea softly doused the beach.
  • The waves were carelessly dribbling onto the sand.
  • The ebbing tide was harmonious.
  • The sea was vaporously exhaling its mist.
  • The flowing of the tide was languorous.
  • The ocean was forging its own sea-song.
  • The gasping waves were waiting for full tide.
  • The groaning sea was riparian-blue.
  • The gurgling waves were metronomic.
  • The gushing waves were comforting.
  • The humming of the wave-song beguiled me.
  • The sea was kindling its own symphony.
  • The lapping waves entranced us.
  • The murmuring of the waves was hypnotic.
  • The waves were oozing onto the beach.
  • The palpitating pulse of the sea was steady and peaceful.
  • The plinking of the wave-music was enthralling.
  • The pulsing sea was acetylene-blue.
  • The quivering sea was hoarding its mighty power.
  • The quavering sea harnessed its majesty.

                                                 THE BEACH: LEVEL 1: BASIC SENTENCES

  • The beach was flax-gold . COLOUR
  • We heard the snoozy sea lap gently. SOUND
  • We walked on a bow of beach . SHAPE
  • Cylinders of light moved across the sea. METAPHORS
  • The other tourists were leather-brown . TANS
  • The neon-blue sky was threaded with silver. KNITTING TERMS FOR THE SKY
  • Children were squealing on the beach. OTHER IMAGES
  • The sun toasted our skin. SENSATION
  • The sea air smelled of chlorine . SMELL
  • The spicy sauces in the burger burned our tongues. TASTE

                                     LEVEL 2: A BASIC PARAGRAPH

The beach we walked on was moon glow-gold . The sea looked dozy as it rested in the afternoon glow. We were walking on a horseshoe of beach . Towers of radiant light soaked the sea with their beauty. The holiday makers we saw all had coconut-brown faces . Clown-hatted donkeys were braying loudly as children pulled their tails. The burning sun roasted us like nuts in an oven. The sea sky seemed threaded with silver. A warm, tangy odour came from the sea as we walked towards a hot dog stand. The sulfurous mustard burned us nearly as much as the sun.

                                       LEVEL 3: CREATIVE PARAGRAPHS

It’s not often you get to see a sunrise-gold beach. That was our privilege as we gazed out at the slothful sea . Ebbing ever so gently, it looked at peace in its jade-green gown. It felt like we were walking on a carpet of candy floss, such was its softness. The golden sand swept around in a scythe of beach , hemmed in by towering dunes. Far out to sea, rivers of pulsing light saturated the sea with gold. Only the occasional tourist walked past us. There was an absence of sun-blasted bodies in this Babylon of beaches.

The horizon seemed to be stitched with a silver line. The seagulls were squawking over our heads and squabbling for morsels from the hotel kitchen. As the sun scorched our bodies to a crisp, a funfair of barbecued aromas drifted towards us. The saline tang of the sea mingled with the cuisine, adding salt to its appeal. We decided to obey our rumbling stomachs and eat. Lobster on a bed of watercress was our fare that afternoon. It tasted tender and briny and the shell food sauce had a hint of bouquet to it.

                                       LEVEL 4: ADVANCED PARAGRAPHS

We stood on the cliff. By chance, we had found the Mecca of coves. We could see a fracture of white sand, a gash of zephyr-haunted cliffs and a wide slash of bay. It was a watery wonderland and the beach was drenched in a lightning-gold , dawn haze. The mighty heap of sea flowed in its astral-blue smoothness from the horizon in. The horizon itself was a thin seam where the canopy of sky and the plane of sea hemmed each other into a line of silver. It was as if they had been welded into an extended splinter of perfection. In the distance, streamers of tapered light splayed out, flowing through cracks in the cloud. We decided to clamber down to the beach.

Slumbering in its blue robe, the sea greeted us and the half-moon of beach softly. The sand was floury underfoot and a feathery, sugar-white of hue. A single yacht bobbed and lolled in the incoming tide, like a toy in a bath. Its lights winked saucily as the wave-crests rose gently. Looking around the secluded beach, we didn’t see any of the normal sights; tourists with Day-Glo tans , tacky stands or chattering hawkers. We realised that we were standing in the gateway of paradise. The siren call of the sea was soothing, the wave music welcome. It was like being wrapped in comforting cellophanes of warm sounds and soft light.

Our serenity was ruptured by the raucous cry of a gull. The rocky hollowness of the cliffs made it seem mournful and cavern loud. It echoed at first with a mournful sound, recoiling from the cliff-rock. It rebounded and its vibration was resonating in the spacious air. The bouncing and distortion of sound rang it out once more. Then it foundered and finally faded away into nothingness.

Our serenity had been interrupted. We decided to make our way home. The rising sun laminated us with its warmth and a theatre of pelagic smells wafted from the steaming seaweed. It took the edge off our hunger and we decided not to eat.

Our footprints in the sand followed us all the way home. Heavens hideaway had been a transcendental experience and we resolved to do it again someday.


The cliff we stood on seemed as old as Abraham. Far below, the hungry sea gnawed at its ankle.

Someone once said that paradise is where seagulls are flying beneath your feet. They were arcing and wheeling between the witchcraft of the morning light. An occasional scream would echo from the cliffs, eerie and resonating. The immense vista leading to the horizon was jaw dropping. The Prussian-blue vault of velvet above seemed to solder into the liquid blanket of silver beneath. Far out to sea, a solitary cormorant, sleek wings a-flurry, streaked out to the place where sea and sky melt into each other and was lost from sight.

The slurpy slapping of the sea was muted, a metronomic murmur. The waves were merely snoozing, sluggish and slumbering in their liquid robes. They dribbled up to the beach of the sheltered cove, then shuddered and drizzled their sea spray onto its surface, whisking the stones before releasing. A current of cold electricity passed through the air. We shivered. The wind whipped up. The sea simmered.

Sloshing, swollen to its confined depths, its cavernous bowels stirred, a growling from the fathoms. Suddenly, stone dashed sand teemed as the sea hissed, washed, polished, and lashed the pebbles before sloshing back. It hissed, slipped, dashed the sand and released; fizzed, spit, seethed the beach and released: sizzed, slapped, swished the stones and released.

The mesmeric beauty of its beat was heart-swelling. We realized then that the sea was its own master, kindling its own symphony. It hadn’t finished its song yet, however. The wind, the midwife of the seas, served a different master and whipped it into a frenzy.

The echo of a raspy rumbling from the enraged sea came to us, a tremulousness to fear. The waves were really sloshing, slurping and slobbering with their salty lips. They pounded into the cliff of the sheltered cove, then paused and pounced with malice onto its ankle, slamming the rock before releasing. A rumour of its malevolence passed through our legs. We shivered. The wind died down. The sea bubbled. Trembling, throbbing to its rotten beat, its malicious soul stirred, a warning from the ages. Suddenly, rip-tide rolls heaved as the sea foamed, crashed, pounded and bashed the cliff-foot before sloshing back. It foamed and frothed, plunged down hard and pummelled the hated cliffs; it lathered and lacerated, bucked waves and buckled itself; it smacked and smashed, surging waves and expunging its awful rage.

Its hissy fit over, it swelled once more, juddered and was still.


I hope you enjoyed the post. Thanks for reading it. Liam.

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Posted October 17, 2014 by liamo in Uncategorized

Tagged with best descriptive sea sounds , Describing a calm sea , describing a peaceful sea , Describing the sea

Describing The Sea   4 comments

Hello everybody,

Today I am posting the level 4 sample from the Summer chapter.  It is about a man adrift at sea and struggling for survival.  Enjoy the read..

Alone at Sea

Water, water, everywhere and not a drop to drink. I am doomed. The wooden planks of flotsam I cobbled together after the shipwreck are coming loose. I am sitting on a floating coffin with makeshift oars. It’s like Satan’s sauna out here in this big, blue tomb. The emptiness in my soul matches the spiritless sky and the featureless waterscape around me.

The days are the worst. The remorseless sun bends his full will against my survival and he is winning. I feel like I have been stabbed by a million sun spears. My blood simmers, my brain stews, and even my bones seem to smoulder in their meaty carcass. Dead man drifting. That’s who I am. I am floundering in a sea of divine-blue quicklime and there’s no escape. My tongue feels like a slab of lead, cloven to the roof of my mouth. My throat is parched and my lips are chapped and flaky. Only a god could save me now. Below the surface, huge shapes glide. Their fins break the surface like steel triangles, leaving barely a ripple. They circle and circle, constantly searching for weakness. They have followed me for three days and nights, cruel and cunning as they are. The knife fixed to the end of the oar can only keep them at bay for so long.

The tides are the mistress of the sea. They dictate the level of wind necessary for my forward movement. No tides, no wind, no survive. That’s why I hate the nights. A vast shroud of Barabbas –black fills the abyss of sky above. The wind dies down as the eerie, spectral moon appears. It casts down splinters of Solomon-gold, making the sea crests sparkle like elf-light. It is merely an illusion of beauty. I can see the full glitter of their beady eyes and the flash of their scalpel sharp teeth as they grin at me. The only sounds to keep me company are the sigh of wind, the slap of oar and the slosh of wave. The leavening sea is my enemy. It is as cold as a ghoul’s soul and my teeth are rattling and chattering. The haunting cheep-cheep of a passing tern reminds me how powerless I really am. Even he can go home. The stink of a thousand seas surrounds me. It is a mix of rotting kelp and dying fish. It assaults my nostrils and steals my hope.

But lo! There’s a huge magma-red light in the distance. I am rocked by a huge wave which pushes me towards the light. All the gods are with me. My name is Lucius Andropedus. I am a fisherman from Pompeii and I am lost at sea. It is The Year of Our Lord 79 A.D, somewhere off the coast of Italy, and I am saved.

For much more of the above, please check out my book   Writing with Stardust  which is now available on Amazon. You can also click any of the book images below.


Posted July 23, 2012 by liamo in Uncategorized

Tagged with adrift at sea , Alone at Sea , Describing the sea , the deadly sea , the lonely sea

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Home — Essay Samples — Environment — Water — Descriptive The Beach That Etched Into My Heart


Descriptive The Beach that Etched into My Heart

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descriptive essay about the sea

Descriptive essay: The Beach

               A draught blew by me taking my spirit with it. The strands of hair crossed my face; the sun peaked its way above the horizon as if it was scared to shed some light. The smell of the salty sea tingled my nose as I breathed in a breath of fresh air. The sand was a mine field of corals, with a collection of many different multicolored sea shells; however at the same time, the sand was a bed of blankets. The way the sand flowed onto my feet and out to the spaces between my toes made my heart somehow pound like a synchronized drum beat in a marching band. It was as delicate as a new born baby; the grains were so fine that it could not possibly be visible by the human eye. The waves were singing me a dulcet lullaby, making me reminisce my childhood and drawing me closer into them. They were inviting me in, with their everlasting arms wide opened but my feet wouldn’t listen at this hour because the frigid waves penetrated my feet. So I sat down, watching the sun stretch its way out of bed.

               As minutes ticked by, the warm rays gradually glowed; he greeted me with a friendly hello. He reached down towards me and shined a streak of light as if he wanted to lend me a hand. The blazing light pierced through my cold skin and gave me an immediate boost of excitement. The sun worked his way up to the sky, distributing its power to everything at its sight. Birds were singing into my ear with high spirits, roaming around the sky trying to claim it for itself. The sky shed its color from dark misty indigo to an illuminated shimmering blue sky. Fluffy clumps of clouds that were covering the sky before slowly fainted away into thin air and the crystal clear waves sparkled like diamond and the cold waters began to heat up. I walked up to the edge of the beach again and dunked my toe into the water. It felt as if my numbed foot from before melted into a puddle mixed with the ocean. My acidic stomach turned to its side as the pungent smell of decayed algae filled the air. I could hear the fish in the ocean screaming for attention; at the same time I could smell their fear toward the sea gulls that were hungry looking for any fish in the water for lunch.

               People began to come out of their homes and enjoy the extraordinary gift God has created for us. Eventually, the beach became a room filled with laughter. Children are scooping up the featherlike sand and remolding them into magnificent image of their wild imagination. I stretch my legs and slouch down on the platform of the beach; with an ice cream in one hand melting its way to freedom, I spy on everyone on the beach. A group of teenage boys are playing tag with the girls as if they were kids again; the beach really did bring everyone closer to each other and bring back memories of your childhood. Everything was possible to do at the beach. From the way people dress to the things they do, it describes them and their unique personality. Mad balls are thrown around in the air as people play volleyball, football, soccer and all sorts of different ball games. Sweat dripped down everyone’s faces after playing hard out in the sun; some race to reapply sunscreen on their dehydrated flashed red skin whilst the others take a dive into the ocean to cool off. Water is splashed everywhere from the people fooling around and the reflection of their faces showing a huge grin are drawn on the waves. The waves show a smile in return and create a huge wave that carries everyone safely back onto the shore. Out onto the far ocean, I can see glimpse of people riding jet-skis racing as fast as a bullet toward the never ending horizon and up above; a humongous shade of red, blue and green drizzle onto the shore as the parasails fly back in for landing. The sun is getting tired and is slowly lying off its heat; towels are given out and the shops alongside are packing up getting ready to close down. I could smell the success they have earned today and their high hopes for tomorrow’s work awaits them.

               The day is ending, and slowly one by one, people are leaving after an exciting but tiresome day at the beach; however I could almost see their lively hearts smiling at me. Some stay around to see the spectacular view of when the sun sets and make a wish upon the horizon. Finally the sun dipped into a pool of internal light, and the reflections of the waves saluted me as if for a moment I was part of the beach.

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Descriptive Essay on the Ocean 4 Pages 910 Words

             When deprived of water, a sponge becomes hard and brittle. It shrivels up like a wilted flower, lifeless. Water relaxes sponges, fills them up, makes them soft and supple. At times, I find myself becoming hard and much in need of something to fill me up and restore my deadened senses, to, if you will, water me. The ocean satiates my senses and rejuvenates my spirit. It awakens me from my trance, imposed upon me by the insensibility of the world. For me, the ocean has always represented escape, new beginnings, adventure. What things lie on the other side, what wonders does it hold in its deeps? Many a tale has been told by the ocean, whether released from the depths or cast upon the beach. Some of my most vivid and beautiful memories were made so by the sea and its shore.              When I was a little girl, my family had a summer house on a point. There was a huge white monastery next door, with a high sea wall in front of it. At high tide, the ocean came right up to the wall and slapped against the stone. At the wall's end, the land flattened out into a sandbar. In June, at low tide, you could walk down there and the sandbar would be teeming with horseshoe crabs, heavily armored and prehistoric-looking. If you looked closely, you could see air bubbles rising up from small holes in the shallow pools, a telltale sign of a hermit crab. I loved walking to the sandbar and seeing all the life. I was fascinated by it. Sometimes, though, I'd stay too long and get caught on one side of the sea wall by the tide. To my child's mind, the ocean could be scary. Getting home became an adventure, but I somehow always made it safely.              If you were to walk the other way down the beach, towards the point, the sea walls were lower, but they ran along for ages. One would run into the next, white stone into orange brick into gray rock. I would walk along them until I reached the broken sea wall. I loved to              ...

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    As I step into the Atlantic Ocean I feel the sand between my toes and the water streaming around my body. I gazed at the horizon. The only thing I could see was

  13. Descriptive essay: The Beach

    A draught blew by me taking my spirit with it. The strands of hair crossed my face; the sun peaked its way above the horizon as if it was

  14. Descriptive Essay on the Ocean

    Descriptive Essay on the Ocean essays When deprived of water, a sponge becomes hard and brittle. It shrivels up like a wilted flower, lifeless.