Taboo Words is a wonderful one shot challenge that works for all ages. Your task is to write a story about the picture below without using the words: SAND, WATER, BLUE
I feel the warm breeze blowing in my face. The air lifts my hair, swirls it around, and gently puts it back down. I smell the salt in the air and know I am in the right place. The beach has been calling to me my entire life. I stand on the warm ground and feel my feet sink in. My toes are lost under the cover of the tiny white pebbles. I wiggle my toes and see the ground move and shift around them. I haven’t felt like this since I was a child. I hear a slight crunch as I walk toward the hammock, suspended between the palm trees like a gift from heaven. I tentatively sit, and feel the gentle swing as I stretch out. There is nothing to do but lie back and listen to the sound of the ocean waves lapping at the shore. The gentle rhythm washes away all of the stress and doubt. As I look up, I see the azure sky stretched out above me. It seems endless, only punctuated by a few fluffy white clouds. I could stare at this all day, however the rocking of the hammock and the sound of the ocean quickly lulls me into a peaceful sleep.
The sound of crashing waves carries with the wind. The warm sun heats the soft ground. I can feel my feet sink into the earth as the ocean crashes against the beach. The sun is bright and the clouds are scarce. Below the surface you can see the shadows of small sea creatures. Looking out across the horizon I can see surfers sitting patiently on their boards, and sail boats cruising in the light winter breeze. Completely in awe, I walk back towards the busy sidewalks of Mooloolaba and I realize that this place, this beautiful Oceanside town will be home for the next three months.
Feathery green leaves sway in the wind on the grainy natural shore. The ropes on the hammock caress my relaxed body. I glance out over the aqua waves as they lap against the earth. It is neither hot nor cold, it is perfection. The smell of salt stings my nose as a tickle of breath and a feeling of sticky air enhance this utopia. “Can I stay here forever?” I think. My eyelids grow heavy and begin to droop, the words on the pages I am attempting to read blurring as I move in and out of consciousness. My breathing slows so that it is not audible to any living creature as I slip dreamily into slumber, beach slumber, catatonic slumber, the gift I give myself allowing the release into a temporary paralysis of pure ecstacy.
I know what you’re thinking. This is paradise. Such a seascape must be a vacation resort of some kind. This couldn’t be further from the truth. I first arrived at this island sixty-one days ago (I think), after being knocked overboard on a cruise liner, and I haven’t seen nor heard another human being since. The weather is a stifling and humid 35 degrees Celsius, and the wispy shade of these palm trees offers little protection against the blazing solar glare. All I have are some supplies that were left here by someone who must have thought the same thing you were thinking; that this would be a great place to relax. There is no trace of that person now, and I don’t know how—or if—I will ever escape. There is a grit that has invaded my every orifice and pore, and there is no way to rinse myself clean of it. The briny ocean provides no refreshment. It’s a good thing my third grade teacher taught me the cycles that included condensation and runoff. I feel so helpless and isolated in this would-be paradise. I think this would be no problem for a McGyver type, but I am not him. I am just an average man trying to find a way home.
My family and I have finally found the time to take a vacation together. We have decided to take a cruise to the beautiful islands of Hawaii. There were two deciding factors. First, we all wanted to go somewhere warm and the second is we wanted to go somewhere that no one has visited. Hawaii was the perfect location. When we got to the main island we were greeted by beautiful women wearing grass dresses and showered my family and I with hand woven leis. We were then invited to an infamous luau, featuring a whole pig, the sweetest smelling pineapple and dances rich in native history. The island was filled with laughter and smiles and the most delectable food I have ever tasted- I haven’t seen my father this happy in a while. We spent days exploring the magnificent land, some in which was created by once smoldering lava. The beauty of the island was picturesque, beauty I have only seen in postcards. I had to capture this moment, this memory, our happiness.
This picture reminds me that it is a time for vacation! Leave a daily routine and distract yourself away from the real world. Changing location and environment can do a magic. Especially if this is the place we see in this beautiful picture.
I often catch myself staring at clear skies on sunny days. The color is mesmerizing. I force myself to listen for any sounds of nature. An outside door of the church was open the day of my father’s funeral service, sunbeams shining through. For a bit, I only heard the chirping and singing of feathered friends. Now I listen for songbirds or locust or the wind. As a child, I would swing trancelike fixated and reaching for what I couldn’t touch. As I look up, I watch for any movement that impedes my frame like a bird or a swaying tree branch. I think about how I would like this to be a vision of eternity for me. When my days are done and I look up this is what would I like to see.
The trees swaying in the cool ocean breeze resemble a bright green. Green as my grass after a long rain storm and having been prickly and brown for a week because I refused to turn on the sprinkler just to “keep up” with the neighbors. The ground, soft enough where I never want to wear shoes again moves in between and around my toes as I walk toward my final destination… the crisp, cool ocean. The ocean is my favorite to swim in on a hot and humid day. It doesn’t bother my skin like chlorine in a pool and it doesn’t leave me freezing like the lake. I take the time to dry off while swinging in the hammock watching the birds scour for food with each wave. The little crab who was hiding before comes out scurrying sideways with his funny eyes that I can’t get enough of. The sound of the waves crashing ashore calms me as I truly feel like I am in my place of comfort within my mind. I continue to look out to check for any sharks or whales swimming by. I can’t stop looking or listening, even though my eyes feel heavy in my serenity and I could fall right asleep. Eventually, my skin feels hot, too hot, and I must head inside. My hair is dry now, but not frizzy or in disarray like when I normally air dry it after a shower. It lays the way I wish it could every day, and I finally understand what “beach hair” is now. I feel like I’m meant to stay here.
Warm breezes blowing, sun and shadows sprinkling through the palm trees over my skin, these are my memories of the Dominican Republic. My glasses are covered in a fine sand grit from the breeze which makes it seem as if I’m looking through a haze. Seaweed is piled high on the shore that I have to step across to get to the ocean. Huge waves washing in more. Vacationers bobbing in the clear, cerulean ocean and the faint cries and laughter of children. I see a cloudless sky marred occasionally by a bird or a parasailer. The merchants wandering the beach disturb your sleep trying to sell their wares. Drinking strawberry daiquiris’ and hanging out with close friends sharing stories, thoughts, laughter . What a wonderful and serene place to read a good book and experience the places we dream about during cold Rochester winters.
I feel the warm breeze blowing in my face. The air lifts my hair, swirls it around, and gently puts it back down. I smell the salt in the air and know I am in the right place. The beach has been calling to me my entire life. I stand on the warm ground and feel my feet sink in. My toes are lost under the cover of the tiny white pebbles. I wiggle my toes and see the ground move and shift around them. I haven’t felt like this since I was a child. I hear a slight crunch as I walk toward the hammock, suspended between the palm trees like a gift from heaven. I tentatively sit, and feel the gentle swing as I stretch out. There is nothing to do but lie back and listen to the sound of the ocean waves lapping at the shore. The gentle rhythm washes away all of the stress and doubt. As I look up, I see the azure sky stretched out above me. It seems endless, only punctuated by a few fluffy white clouds. I could stare at this all day, however the rocking of the hammock and the sound of the ocean quickly lulls me into a peaceful sleep.
ReplyDeleteThe sound of crashing waves carries with the wind. The warm sun heats the soft ground. I can feel my feet sink into the earth as the ocean crashes against the beach. The sun is bright and the clouds are scarce. Below the surface you can see the shadows of small sea creatures. Looking out across the horizon I can see surfers sitting patiently on their boards, and sail boats cruising in the light winter breeze. Completely in awe, I walk back towards the busy sidewalks of Mooloolaba and I realize that this place, this beautiful Oceanside town will be home for the next three months.
ReplyDeleteThe Nap
ReplyDeleteFeathery green leaves sway in the wind on the grainy natural shore. The ropes on the hammock caress my relaxed body. I glance out over the aqua waves as they lap against the earth. It is neither hot nor cold, it is perfection. The smell of salt stings my nose as a tickle of breath and a feeling of sticky air enhance this utopia. “Can I stay here forever?” I think. My eyelids grow heavy and begin to droop, the words on the pages I am attempting to read blurring as I move in and out of consciousness. My breathing slows so that it is not audible to any living creature as I slip dreamily into slumber, beach slumber, catatonic slumber, the gift I give myself allowing the release into a temporary paralysis of pure ecstacy.
I know what you’re thinking. This is paradise. Such a seascape must be a vacation resort of some kind. This couldn’t be further from the truth.
ReplyDeleteI first arrived at this island sixty-one days ago (I think), after being knocked overboard on a cruise liner, and I haven’t seen nor heard another human being since. The weather is a stifling and humid 35 degrees Celsius, and the wispy shade of these palm trees offers little protection against the blazing solar glare.
All I have are some supplies that were left here by someone who must have thought the same thing you were thinking; that this would be a great place to relax. There is no trace of that person now, and I don’t know how—or if—I will ever escape.
There is a grit that has invaded my every orifice and pore, and there is no way to rinse myself clean of it. The briny ocean provides no refreshment. It’s a good thing my third grade teacher taught me the cycles that included condensation and runoff.
I feel so helpless and isolated in this would-be paradise. I think this would be no problem for a McGyver type, but I am not him. I am just an average man trying to find a way home.
My family and I have finally found the time to take a vacation together. We have decided to take a cruise to the beautiful islands of Hawaii. There were two deciding factors. First, we all wanted to go somewhere warm and the second is we wanted to go somewhere that no one has visited. Hawaii was the perfect location. When we got to the main island we were greeted by beautiful women wearing grass dresses and showered my family and I with hand woven leis. We were then invited to an infamous luau, featuring a whole pig, the sweetest smelling pineapple and dances rich in native history. The island was filled with laughter and smiles and the most delectable food I have ever tasted- I haven’t seen my father this happy in a while. We spent days exploring the magnificent land, some in which was created by once smoldering lava. The beauty of the island was picturesque, beauty I have only seen in postcards. I had to capture this moment, this memory, our happiness.
ReplyDeleteThis picture reminds me that it is a time for vacation! Leave a daily routine and distract yourself away from the real world. Changing location and environment can do a magic. Especially if this is the place we see in this beautiful picture.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteI often catch myself staring at clear skies on sunny days. The color is mesmerizing. I force myself to listen for any sounds of nature. An outside door of the church was open the day of my father’s funeral service, sunbeams shining through. For a bit, I only heard the chirping and singing of feathered friends. Now I listen for songbirds or locust or the wind. As a child, I would swing trancelike fixated and reaching for what I couldn’t touch. As I look up, I watch for any movement that impedes my frame like a bird or a swaying tree branch. I think about how I would like this to be a vision of eternity for me. When my days are done and I look up this is what would I like to see.
ReplyDeleteThe trees swaying in the cool ocean breeze resemble a bright green. Green as my grass after a long rain storm and having been prickly and brown for a week because I refused to turn on the sprinkler just to “keep up” with the neighbors.
ReplyDeleteThe ground, soft enough where I never want to wear shoes again moves in between and around my toes as I walk toward my final destination… the crisp, cool ocean. The ocean is my favorite to swim in on a hot and humid day. It doesn’t bother my skin like chlorine in a pool and it doesn’t leave me freezing like the lake.
I take the time to dry off while swinging in the hammock watching the birds scour for food with each wave. The little crab who was hiding before comes out scurrying sideways with his funny eyes that I can’t get enough of. The sound of the waves crashing ashore calms me as I truly feel like I am in my place of comfort within my mind. I continue to look out to check for any sharks or whales swimming by. I can’t stop looking or listening, even though my eyes feel heavy in my serenity and I could fall right asleep.
Eventually, my skin feels hot, too hot, and I must head inside. My hair is dry now, but not frizzy or in disarray like when I normally air dry it after a shower. It lays the way I wish it could every day, and I finally understand what “beach hair” is now. I feel like I’m meant to stay here.
Warm breezes blowing, sun and shadows sprinkling through the palm trees over my skin, these are my memories of the Dominican Republic. My glasses are covered in a fine sand grit from the breeze which makes it seem as if I’m looking through a haze. Seaweed is piled high on the shore that I have to step across to get to the ocean. Huge waves washing in more. Vacationers bobbing in the clear, cerulean ocean and the faint cries and laughter of children. I see a cloudless sky marred occasionally by a bird or a parasailer. The merchants wandering the beach disturb your sleep trying to sell their wares. Drinking strawberry daiquiris’ and hanging out with close friends sharing stories, thoughts, laughter . What a wonderful and serene place to read a good book and experience the places we dream about during cold Rochester winters.
ReplyDelete