Creative Writing: Past and Present Tense
Seasons of flourish waves In the sizzling summer the long beach waves appear inviting. Smooth sand firstly greets us with their wild sense of heat. As near the view and sound of waves rumbling along the sea starts our excitement. The weather is perfect. Some people dive into the chill relaxing water like a family of dolphins, as others sunbath along us being like a group of lazy walruses resting. The atmosphere is comforting. Out beyond the heavy waves. I can see the three mystery islands that appear every time of visit, wondering any survival. However my long concentration suddenly breaks within a moment. Surprisingly humpback whales dance, darting up and slamming down on the far splashing waters. The scene was very pleasing. Finally my little brother and I paddle out on our surfboards until the incredible gigantic waves roll out. We meet in distance, pick up the speed and at last we travel on the nature.
When winter arrives, the beach wave is not so inviting for us. In short distance the green seaweed creates a formation along the stretch of beach waters, constructing an outlook of a rip. The water seems foggy. Most waves climb over the shore rocks and hit mighty like a meteorite. As gusting winds craft the scenery with a war like disaster, many areas cause a wondrous mess. Out in the remoteness, the islets confuse out of sight. Fracturing the once curious atmosphere into a dispute. Astonishment suddenly appears in mind. Back on the shore, the damp sand endure our only short walks as no one else seems to be close aside. However one takes the cold sea breeze and strives for excitement. The cut off is short but the thrill seems unbelievable. Our dad shivering in cold dies in such mad joy.
Only our dad finds the waves inviting, no matter what the
When winter arrives, the beach wave is not so inviting for us. In short distance the green seaweed creates a formation along the stretch of beach waters, constructing an outlook of a rip. The water seems foggy. Most waves climb over the shore rocks and hit mighty like a meteorite. As gusting winds craft the scenery with a war like disaster, many areas cause a wondrous mess. Out in the remoteness, the islets confuse out of sight. Fracturing the once curious atmosphere into a dispute. Astonishment suddenly appears in mind. Back on the shore, the damp sand endure our only short walks as no one else seems to be close aside. However one takes the cold sea breeze and strives for excitement. The cut off is short but the thrill seems unbelievable. Our dad shivering in cold dies in such mad joy.
Only our dad finds the waves inviting, no matter what the