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Rock Street, San Francisco

The sand is warm, the waves are sometimes soothing, the sunshine is bright and helps make everything feel as though it is alright. The wind is whistling and whisking past my face. Inviting me, I prance into the tranquil waters, surrounded and engulfed in its warmth. At this moment, nothing is of relevance.  It’s just the ocean and I. Just the beach and I. Here I am at my favorite place. There is a struggle to find the words to describe how close the beach is held to me. The sway of the waves. The feeling of the sand between my toes. The gleaming of the sun, the deep history, and lost world underneath the surface that us humans may never be able to ever find or fully understand.  I’ve made many memories at the beach.   Memorial Day of 2011 was an experience that is one of my most favorite memories. Some of my distant family came to visit us from Valdosta. Valdosta is a small country town down south in Georgia. Upon their arrival we packed coolers of drinks, sandwiches, and even a pound cake for a possible sweet tooth. We headed off to Yorktown beach reminiscing of all the memories we had during the summers back in Valdosta. What made this visit so special was that my great aunt came as well, she does not really enjoy traveling. However, little did I know this would be my last time seeing her in the flesh. While there a lot of great things about the beach, to some there are cons as well. While I enjoy the sand, some people do not enjoy the fact that the sand spreads everywhere, not just your swimsuit, towel and those places we can’t see, sand spreads everywhere. While the tornado of sand is an uncomfortable feeling most people accept this “con” as just one thing that happens during your day at the beach. However, many downfalls there could be at the beach, it cannot overshadow the love I have for the beach. At the end of the day, it is my favorite place.  

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