Personal Narrative: A Beach In Nova Scotia

The first thing your eyes jumped to was probably the stunning, jaw-dropping view of the beach I was on. I want to say I took the picture, but I obviously didn’t because- well, I’m in it. So here I am, reappearing once again in Nova Scotia, but this time at a beach by Pleasant Bay, right at the tippity top of Nova Scotia. There was no mud on this beach, unlike Fundy Bay. Instead, there was sand all over the beach. But I’m not struggling to hold sand in my arms here. In my arms, I was clutching a rock that was bigger than my head. And why in the world would I ever want to lug a rock around? Well, you see, as we arrived at the beach, I noticed something quite different from other places we’d been. In the place of the usual towels and umbrellas, there were circles of rocks. Lots of them; probably fifteen or so littering the entire beach. And of course, I, assuming it was “cool”, wanted to make one too. So I did. Grabbing the most enormous boulders I could handle, I started making a ring of rocks, just like the other ones. Step after step, stone after stone, I lugged rocks across the beach, going all the way across the beach for the perfect rock. As I toiled on through blood, sweat, and tears to build my circle, my parents and brother just sat by watching and laughing. But it was worth it. Soon enough, as the sun crawled into bed, I finished, lodging the final stone into place. With a sigh of accomplishment, I sat down on one of the rocks and watched the light fade into nothingness. …show more content…
All that hard work, for an unused firepit. But even though I spent the entire afternoon building a firepit, I still don’t regret it. I never stopped to think of the consequences of using all my time on one task, but I never doubted my ability to do it either. Maybe people used it after I left, or maybe someone like me is writing their version of my same story somewhere else in the world. I guess I’ll never