descriptive essay

I run down the boardwalk, not worrying about getting splinters in my tender feet. Every ten or fifteen feet I stop, sometimes to smell the salty sea air, but mostly to wait for my parents who plod along behind carrying chairs, coolers, and other beach paraphernalia. I yell back to them to hurry, and they reply that I can run ahead and find a good spot. I yelp with glee and run as fast as …

…around me, wetting me hot body. I dig my body into the moistened ground, covering my legs and arms with the cool, wet sand. I hear my mom calling to me to come up to the umbrella. I turn back to look at her, as I do so the little thing at the edge of my mind suddenly dawns on me. I made it out to the water, now I must make my way back.