The Happy Place

(This was an exercise I did in class. We had to use the five senses to describe a scene. It was a black and white photo of a male holding a surfboard in his right hand. Before him was a large wave, crashing towards his position.)

Through the stress of work, I took a deep breath, attempting to calm myself. I closed my eyes and sent my consciousness back to my happy place. On the shore of the beach, I stood there. All I did was watch as a wave crashed, speeding towards me. It collapsed on itself, turning white with foam. The sound of the wave almost resembled a storm, the thunder stunning those caught in its midst. In my right hand was my trusted surfboard. Its solid constitution was a comforting feeling that accompanied me on my travels. Underneath my feet and between my toes were countless grains of sand, tiny and broken down from the endless crashing of waves that came before. The slight taste of salt water, slowly washing down my face and onto my lips. The gradual drying of a film of salt on my bare chest, keeping the wild hairs of my body at bay. Sweat mixing with salt water yielding a unique scent that only the ocean can produce. If I could describe it with words, it did not smell good, but was still comforting to me. The sights, the sounds, the touch, the taste, the smell… all of these compounded together formed my happy place.