A Beachy Day

It was just another boiling summer day.  The sun was pouring through the cobwebbed window next to my bed.  The rain had been pelting all night long.  It was one of those long summer thunderstorms.

I yawned sleepily, blinked twice and stared plainly out of my bedroom window.  The ground was soaking, mixed with morning dew and the heavy rain from the night before.  The car was soaking and the washing lay droopily over the washing line as if it was hanging its head down because it was ashamed of something.

I clambered out of bed and tossed on my dressing gown.  I suddenly heard a noise I’d been dreading and mourning over ALL SUMMER!  It’s that beastly cricket.  I love to play it but I hate to watch it.  Besides when the cricket comes on in the morning there’s a good chance it will keep flicking for long periods of time for the WHOLE DAY.

To avoid being invited to watch the sport I sneaked down the corridor and slipped into Mum and Dad’s room.  I’m not in there for long as I quickly hear the news we’re going to camp on the beach tonight.  I go off dancing around the house clumsily yelling, “Hooray”.  We were soon told we’d leave at 4 pm so to be ready.  4 o’clock seemed to come years later.  Finally I grab my pillow and a few sleeping bags, than leap off the deck and dart to the beach.  As I arrive I stare and gape at the unique colour of the sea.  A colour not found in a paint box or in a flower, only in the stunning ocean.  I soon found Daddy pitching the tent and helped him do the last wee bits. 

It’s not long before the rest of the family arrive on this astonishingly beautiful day.  I suddenly realise how much more beautiful the beach is than my bedroom window view.  All at once I have a sudden urge to go swimming.  I throw on my togs, leap down to the shallow depths where I feel the cold crispy water lap upon my toes.  Not caring about the icy temperature I splash into the calm blue water, swim smooth strokes and dive cleanly under a wave.  I was in for a while before I came out and dried myself, while feeling the warm smooth soft sand beneath my soles.  I am so lucky to live by perfect Pakiri beach.

The afternoon goes slowly and finally evening arrives where we toast marshmallows at a bonfire in front of our tent.  Hugo had about 20 delicious melting marshmallows and I and Skye had about 4 each.  I was extremely excited as I crawled into my sleeping bag listening to all the noises.  The heavy waves, the crackling bonfire, my parents chatting outside and the gentle breezes that blew around the top level of the beachy sand.  I was put to sleep soundly.  By morning nothing much had changed.

By Lily