Sand Beneath My Feet
My feet softly crunched into the damp sand, both my Creepers tucked neatly between my fingertips. My gaze was cast over the glassy surface of the water. I let out a sigh and tugged my coat closer around my neck; my foggy breath forming into a cloud of condensation.
The wind breathed in my ear - carrying lost secrets with it. Two seagulls arrogantly communicated from opposite ends of an island, their high pitched yodels filling the air. However, their conversation was drowned out as a crow flew low overhead and released a harsh, raspy shriek.
Venturing across the water's edge, I came across some messages carved into the moist grains. Sweet nothings, names and footprints - which marked the evidence of a creature's journey through the adventure of life.
The water started far out then raced to the shore, fingers reaching out to touch land - to try claim it. Its mission was cut short when it was dragged back into the depths, leaving behind the ocean's treasures. My ears picked up many different sounds - for example, the low hum of a Catamaran ready to set sail for a foreign country.
It was fairly grey, the clouds were painted across the sky like an inky water colour painting. The wind picked up in an angry mood swing, whipping my hair about and combing through the roots. I watched as the gale and the water had an argument. The mirror was distorted, resulting in the sky no longer being able to glance at its own reflection.
I soon came across a dock that supporting a single boat which bobbed unhappily by itself. Each tip of the boat emitted a chime - the clanking of a metallic object. Straining, my ears just managed to pick up other chimes and clanks of the boats out on the moody waters.
My attention was diverted when the aggressive whipping groan of a helicopter disturbed the beach's symphony. The sound sliced through the air and hung around like an annoying wasp you wanted to swat away.
I checked my watch and realized it was getting late so I made for the path home. When I neared the forest edge I dropped my Creepers and slipped a foot in each before carrying on with my journey. As my feet stepped from sand to grass a new chorus surrounded me.
The trees whispered and hissed like snakes. In the long grass crickets sang, representing the sound of a zip opening and closing constantly or the sped up creak of winding up a music box. Birds performed duets - a variety of whistle-like sounds. Singing - short and long, accelerando and allegro.
The base if my shoe crunched against the stones littering the path in thousands. Rustles, crunches and twitches from the distance, reassuring me that the life was there.
The wind had died down, I thought it had given up. Then, as if to prove itself, it angrily picked up again, the trees increased in volume - a loud reply. A river flowed timidly to my right, the glossy surface covered in the forest's debris. There was a splash of vibrant blossoms, as if someone had spilled pink paint across the surface.
Creaking, the large oak reached out its fingertips to the sky as if hoping to be free, free to fly forever. My fingers lightly traced the intricate creases of the bark which was tough - like an elephant's skin.
The next tree's bark was pealing like the paint in a spare room. Moss creeped up the base, as if claiming the adult sapling as its own.
A spider had weaved its trap through the grass then hid in the deceiving silk - usually a luxurious material, but in this case a pathway to prey's end.
As I neared the end of my journey, leaves and seeds spiraled from high branches before hitting the ground. A flurry of excitement comes to an end eventually. Life will forever be a downwards spiral until eventually that last leaf hits the ground.
THE END
