Emotions Written in Sand | Teen Ink

Emotions Written in Sand

November 14, 2014
By ShastaH GOLD, Olympia, Washington
ShastaH GOLD, Olympia, Washington
17 articles 0 photos 3 comments

The waves crash onto the sandy beach, pulling the sand back, and then leaving it behind on its continuous journey to the ocean. I can almost hear the disappointment of the soft sand, as it realizes that once again, it will be left behind, soon forgotten in the cycle of the tides. The sand feels so small, in a world that consistently seems to be overlooking it. Every day, it is crushed by my worn flip flops, played with by the clumsy hands of toddlers, and shaken off of bright and colorful beach blankets that mock its insignificance. Yet, it always seems to be there, comforting you as you settle down to escape from the tedious activities of everyday life.  It pours over every inch of your body, in a thin blanket of pure happiness, to share its warmth with someone else. It is true that no one really understands it, for it has no voice to speak with, no ears to hear with, and no mouth to taste with. It is simply just a particle made up of different minerals, and sediments. There are many different ways to describe it, but at the same time, no right or wrong way. The sand is very much like a person’s emotions. Confused and muddled, yet at times clear, and crisp.
The sand goes through all of this because, just as the blazing sun gently kisses the water, a girl’s figure walks onto the beach, letting the wind play with her long hair. Twirling the strands around its thin, spindly fingers in the attempt to style it in some way. Her glossy hair always manages to escape just as the wind gets a hold of it.
Stopping at where the dry sand gives way to the powers of the ocean, she places her feet in a little pool of water that is fighting to return to its mother; the Atlantic Ocean. The cool water, washes over her feet, cleaning them, and carrying away all her uncertain feelings and doubts that she carries like a weight. They suddenly disappear in the depths of the water. Pulled, and pushed into absolute nothingness. She carefully clears a spot for where she can sit, aware of the sand that works its way underneath her finger nails, and into her eyes. Settling herself in that spot, she looks out over the ocean. A single, sparkling cover, protecting all of the creatures it holds. She smiles. Her wind chapped lips opening over white teeth and stretching to their limit. She closes her eyes, and allows herself to become a part of the ocean itself.

The author's comments:

This was inspired by my personal experiences at the beach in Newport, OR.

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