The Beach/the Storm Descriptive Writing

The Beach. A storm brews above. People escape the beach, pronto grabbing their possessions as come down spits down on them. Music from cafes and f atomic number 18 rides come to a encumbrance as their customers quickly disappear and the happy sounds of laughter echo nigh the empty beach. A gloomy shadow descends over the sea. Feeble light-hearted from the few surviving streetlights and lanterns appear to dim as the dark clouds ingrain across the sky wish well a creeping panther. Birds silence their claim and flee to safer places.Sandcastles with small motes, which surrounded them, are now filled with seawater. either last remaining footsteps disappear and are quickly buried infra the sand. The wind teases the scattered rubbish picking it up then quickly releasing it again. People shelter in cars waiting for the storm to spreetheir windscreen wipers furiously fighting against the increasingly powerful rain. Waves rage upon the sand, displace sand back and forth as they go . They crash against the sea bulwark, barb upwards and spraying the abandoned cafes and shops.Yachts begin to rock with the waves they are like a gymnast balancing on a beam ab place to capitulation any second. The pier fights against the drowning waves as they attempt to bring it under the surface. Trees quit at the battering wind, forcing leaves and branches to be torn rack up their trunks. A bird-usually so in control of its own destiny-fights the beast as it toys with it playfully. The once terminate sky is now full of thick cloud, staining the sky a deadly shade of indigo, forever darkening like a hat closing on a box trapping darkness within it.The saturated clouds start to rumble. Below them, the streets are lifeless as no one dares leave their secure houses for the extreme weather outside. Thunder shakes the clouds, as its loud rumble echoes around the empty beach. The smell of the sea overpowers the old, tarriance smell of chips and candyfloss, now only a stench of salt and seaweed are left. Sand storms are whipping up from the shore into the variant and circling in the wind. CRASH Lightning illuminates the sky and forks downwards to strike a boat, like a spear would to catch a fish.The smoke from the explosion is quickly carried off by the wind and the remains of the boat are rapidly dragged under the waves. The weather torments seagulls with the espy of dead fish washing up onto the shore, thus far there is no other choice but to stay in hiding. The icy winds whistle around each rock and under every doorway not even warm houses can be defend from the chill of the storm. On the shore waves crash against rocks and onto the sand, shattering shells with its immense pressure.The lighthouse is left to fend for itself on the cliff, yet its light has no purpose, as the sea is emptyno one would dare venture out into the vicious sea. * * * * * The sound of rain now overpowers the quietening rumble of thunder. Rays from the sun urge on done the cloud and release the shadow from the sea. Wind still pulls at the sea splashing waves upon the shore, making pebbles jerk against one another. The trees release accent from their exhausted roots. Birds finally venture out into the unsteady weather afterwards their long wait for food.A tempting scent in the air of brewing coffee comes back and drowns the sea-salt smell. Waves still press against the sea wall sending a light spray of water up into the wind. A final deposit of light drizzle falls into the shore. The sun peeks through the last remaining cloud and lights up the shoreline, to reveal the dazzling sight again. The happy fare-ground tune starts again and the merry-go-round begins to buzz with life again, deliverance with it once more the familiar sound of laughter.