The Beach Boys

Kailua The location that I chose to observe was Kailua beach in Hawaii. The beach is known to be a local hotspot. There you will find many locals swimming, surfing, barbecuing, and enjoying themselves. Driving up to the beach you probably wouldn’t think that right behind the abandoned house was how you actually got to the beach. There is a small parking lot that locals wait to park in. There is no paved pathway to get to the beach there are only paths on the grass that have been made by people.…

sand and feel the breeze blowing in your face. Where you can swim in the salty water and take long walks on the beach in the smooth, soft, and cold sand. It’s a place where you can taste the juicy steak and all the tropical flavors filling your empty stomach as you overlook the beach and the joyful tourists having fun on the beach. Where you can wake up every morning to the beautiful beach and turquoise water. Being an 11 year old, I knew a little about the poverty in the Dominican…

"Let’s take the kids down to the beach today.” Joshua was slipping bottled water, apples, and crackers into the backpack we took everywhere with us like I’d already said yes. “Ugh. Today? Can’t we just stay home and put on a movie for the kids?” Victoria lolled her head to the side –the thought of trekking all four kids down to the beach and then trying to have an enjoyable afternoon while trudging through the sand was exhausting. They hadn’t even left the house, and she was already exhausted.…

as long as I can remember, I have had the privelege of spending my summers in New Silver Beach (North Falmouth, MA). New Silver Beach is a sentimental place to me, whose legacy began with my grandparents purchasing a small cottage when my father was just a boy. My father reveres the community so highly that he and my mother work very hard to allow me the opportunity to experience it myself. New Silver Beach has served as second home to me, fostering my development as an individual. The niche…

crabs return to the ports and along the secluded rivulets of beach encompassed by water-worn stone. The winds change and the smell of moss and sea salt returns, and the gulls migrate in innumerable flocks as wide as the wood and white as the moon. The fishermen begin to take longer journeys and their wives cease their knitting of warm clothing. The gulls stop here every year to feed on the eggs of the crabs. For a few weeks the beach stinks of rotting crabmeat. Hermit crabs trade shells…

to complete the hole today because my sister would be back tomorrow and I couldn't risk her catching me in the act. Boy how furious she was going to be. I was so proud of myself for thinking of such a grand idea to get her back.…

underneath her tanned, gentle feet; that seeped in between her toes. The feeling of the cool calmed her heart. Listening she began to the sound of the waves that echoed through the rocks which towered around them, making a cave that entered out onto the beach and towards the sea. The wind rustled her mid-long blonde hair over her…

availability to swim along the beach as well. This perfect beach scene was too good to be true and New Jersey then experienced the first shark attacks to ever be documented in history. Michael Capuzzo explains the five shark attacks along the Jersey Shore and the mass hysteria then ensues after it. The first documented shark attack was in July. The shark attacked Charles Vansant, the son of a well known Philadelphia physician. He was swimming with his dog close to Beach Haven when the shark…

Salty air, sunny skies and sand in-between my toes, there’s nothing like the beach in Galveston, Texas. Every year around the time the Texas heat starts to become unbearable, my family takes a beach trip to the coast. The Cooper annual trip usually consists of countless arguments between my siblings and parents, deep sea fishing and surfing on the beach. This year would be no different, with a few exceptions. The trip started off with the usual “Who gets to pick the radio station” fight. While…

Standing on the windswept beach on the raw, overcast afternoon, Perceval set up a fire pit in the sand while Joan dug by the shore for shellfish. With her long stick, she turned up damp, dark sand, and every time she uncovered an edible gem, she shrieked before plopping it into her bucket. And each time, Perceval laughed. He couldn’t recall a time when his wife seemed happier or more relaxed. The sea air blew through her dark locks and a wide smile graced her face as she worked. “Lots of…