(no subject)
AudreyAnna Rostohar
Critical Writing A
Davis
March 8th, 2002
Seapoint
The most secret place, secluded from all I knew. The 2 foot rocks that boarder the ocean crushed rocks lay in front. The ocean roars it’s praises. The beach crusted with shells and sand with ridges gracefully running down. The peninsula in the background looking so desolate and secure for an aspiring mind to release. Each stride sinks into the sand that glimmers with specks of gold and silver. Each roll of the waves send an exhilarating response through the body. Creeping up to the peninsula. Filled with bushes and long grass. The coast of the peninsula with jagged rocks overlaying and engulfing this piece of land. Each step leading to the small crevices to become a new world for a new mind. Crawling down the rocks, finding tranquillity on a stone. Laying face to the salty sun. There’s a film of salt and slight seaweed translucently covering this rock.
Critical Writing A
Davis
March 8th, 2002
Seapoint
The most secret place, secluded from all I knew. The 2 foot rocks that boarder the ocean crushed rocks lay in front. The ocean roars it’s praises. The beach crusted with shells and sand with ridges gracefully running down. The peninsula in the background looking so desolate and secure for an aspiring mind to release. Each stride sinks into the sand that glimmers with specks of gold and silver. Each roll of the waves send an exhilarating response through the body. Creeping up to the peninsula. Filled with bushes and long grass. The coast of the peninsula with jagged rocks overlaying and engulfing this piece of land. Each step leading to the small crevices to become a new world for a new mind. Crawling down the rocks, finding tranquillity on a stone. Laying face to the salty sun. There’s a film of salt and slight seaweed translucently covering this rock.