Descriptive Free-Write

     I like to go to this place when I want to get away from normal daily life without having to go very far away. As I walk to this place I can feel the salty air of the ocean hit my nostrils after a cool breeze blows my way. As I continue I look upon the waves as they quietly lap along what appears to be a rocky wasteland, though I know that this is no wasteland. A veritable plethora of tiny life teems among shallow pools and under the grey rocks they call home. Nearing my destination, I must pass under a tree laying like a resting behemoth across my path. Arriving at my destination I take my seat upon  an old driftwood log whose bark has long shed away, like a snake that shed it's skin only this skin will never be replaced. At this point I like to start a campfire, in part to keep warm if the day is a cool and chilly one, also to ward away a certain blood-sucking pest who proliferates in the nearby marsh. As I finally sit back I take in the quiet solitude this spot affords, punctuated by the occasional sounds of nature be it the sound of the waves as they continue in their never-ending siege along the shore, or the sounds of the birds as they chirp, caw and sing in their muted cacophony behind me in the forest with their green giants looming over me. Few human souls make their way up to here so for me it is easy for me to whittle away an afternoon sitting there taking in everything around me.