When I was young at the beach, I remember the freezing cold water I swam in. At some points I’d swim by myself, with my family, and even with my friends. I remember the gorgeous nature surrounding me, when I would pick the brightest flowers for my mom's bouquet. My kind gesture would always light a smile on her face, her smile just as bright as the flowers I’d pick for her. I used to see boats crossing the horizon, hoping one day I’d be able to do the same.

When I was young at the beach, I remember the taste of the fresh air all over. I felt the pointy rocks poking at my feet, I'd jump and swim away towards the sand. I would leap into the giant waves that would crash over me. I remember the worry in my dad’s voice telling me to be careful. But I would always know I’d be okay and in a way, he did too.

When I was young at the beach, I was always bothered that we’d go to this beach in particular. This beach made me frustrated because of all the rocks, the crowd, and the distance. I would always suggest another beach, but my request was always turned down. In the end, though, I was always glad my order was rejected. When I’d arrive, all my disappointment and frustration would disappear, knowing I'd have a good day.

At the beach, I remember always having a family picnic, sitting and eating together watching the heavenly sunset with the people I love most. I lived for what we now call a tradition. We would catch up, learn stuff, and even share stories about things that have happened since our last picnic. I always remember our stories and talks by the pleasant beach, I look forward to all the memories and picnics in the future.