The rocks are grey and dull. The never ending tunnels weaving in and out, between the rocks. The colourful sea life that seek refuge among the caves. The mountainous rocks that tower above their heads, keeping the birds of prey famished and thirsty. Boats are scattered around, blue, red and white are the main colours on McFly. There is one building that is like one big spike, it sort of twists in the air.
The McFly was always my favourite boat of my uncle’s. He had it for three years I remember a week or two after he bought it he let me sail a bit with him. I remember all of the other boats, just bobbing in the water. I remember asking if I could have my own boat and being really disappointed when my mum told me that I was too young to have my own boat. My great uncle brought out his boat, The Wheel, and we had a race, it only lasted for a couple of hours because my little sister, Elizabeth, got scared of the fish. Why? I have got no idea!
The salty spray of water hydrates my face, keeping it wet and cool, in the weather that heats my face, the rays of sun light pour onto me. The beams of light like a fiery substance falling from the sun its own burning body.
The rancid smell of rotting seaweed lingers in the air. The stench of my wet dog, Dora, floats in the air and through my jacket, into my nose. There are of course some good smells in that one special place. The horses stables near by, they always have fresh hay. What I think of as the beautiful smell of the countryside.
The gentle sounds of far away ships, the loud barks of playful dogs, my sister throwing rocks at other rocks probably trying to make her own sand. More fierce sounds are harboured in my ears, like party crasher, ruining the lovely peaceful sounds. The ruthless gray waves crash on the rocks, those sorry rocks who suffer this punishment every day, because I think they know that is how this works, that one day the must break apart to become soft and nice to touch
I can taste the air, an unusual sensation; I can taste the salt, just like I feel it and see it. The salt lands softly on my lips, where I lick it off, determined to not taste the salt, to imagine it is only pure water, not the strange substance from the sea that it really is.
I have many memories from this one place, but this one place is one of the most special memories that I treasure. The day when I found the star. It was in the summer holidays, we all wanted to go for a walk so we set off with our two whippets. the walk down to the beach took longer than usual because my little sister decided to fall over and start crying. After 20 minutes we arrived. I ran to my rock, there on the rock was a star! It was a simple starfish, but I thought it had fallen from the sky for me, as a present. This felt like the most amazing thing that could ever happen. But, it was stuck to the rock, my present from the sky didn’t want to come home with me, this crushed me, I felt hated and unwanted. The star didn’t like me! When I got older I realized this was just the stars means of survival.
No comments:
Post a Comment