I intend to write a creative writing piece about Bournemouth Beach using descriptive language and and figurative language.
It is summer, early morning sunlight slowly begins to fill the sky, it’s ambition to illuminate everywhere, every crack and crevice with a coral glow. Basking in its reflection on the ocean, creating a gleaming dancing picture on the azure waters. It gains confidence knowing that soon it will take its place as master of the sky.
The seaside town of Bournemouth, no longer a bleak, dark town, but a town with life beginning to awaken. The sky to the East is turning from coral to orange as if an invisible hand is slowly coloring it in. Echoing the awakening town, the sound of birdsong begins to touch the crisp air, both emerging from their overnight slumber. The silence of night has lost. Metal on metal as keys unlock doors, then creaking hinges herald shops and cafes getting ready for business. “Closed” signs clatter against the windows as they are turned ready for the arrival of today’s expectant customers. A dog barks as the clang of a dustbin being emptied echoes through the streets. The shrill voice of its owner pierces the air. Aromas of food trucks begin to creep stealthily through the streets. The crisp night air retreats overwhelmed by the smells of sizzled crispy bacon, fresh, hot, sugary donuts, coffee… Slowly she takes her last breath and leaves for another day.
Look, now. A sea of people shivering, in anticipation of the suns inevitable victory start to flood from ever filling car parks. Long days on the blazing beach of Bournemouth are memories waiting to be born. Cars piled with inflatables ready to be launched with happy young children as passengers and crew., Baskets filled to the brim with afternoon tea, sandwiches, barbecue sausages, strawberries, cream, drinks, more than can ever be eaten in a single day…The sound of happiness and excitement can be heard everywhere. Children yell and squeal as they sprint through the now busy streets, dodging the traffic and parked cars, making their way to the golden grained beach. Parents stroll across the rippled surface of the beach following the footsteps imprinted in the sand of adventures before them making new ones as they go. The day at the seaside has begun.
Later. The Ferris wheel turns. Lines of happy tourists and locals queue up with candy floss and melting ice cream dripping through their fingers, waiting to climb on the rainbow-color wheel. The view from the top is mesmerizing, to the left, the town of Bournemouth filled with bustling people walking the alleyways searching for shade from the now all-conquering sun… To the right, a sea of glowing bodies covers the sand as far as the eye can see.
Unnoticed before, clouds on the horizon darken and make their presence felt. Evening is here. The sun starts to set as it falls to earth in the West. Gravity dragging it down inevitably to the horizon. Tourists quickly pack up their belongings as a cool breeze approaches from the sea, escaping the now chilly beach with a smile on their face. The beach is silent, lonely and deserted. Yet in the distance, a faint sound begins to make itself known again. The beating heart of the ocean, sending wave after wave curling upward, then crashing to the beach breaking majestically, one after another. The rocks are now a light silhouette, by the soft warm iridescent glow of the setting sun