Suva, Fiji Islands was my birthplace, I’ve lived there half my life. Being a dot on a globe, two separate islands on a map, and a small population, Fiji is surrounded with grains of sand and salty water. The beach was my playground. Precious memories were left behind when I had to move to a different country with my family, but the beach was a place never to be forgotten. The beach is my home where I explored, learned, and relaxed; it swept up my childhood to the shores as each tide pushes up.
My trips to the seashores reminded me of being home. I remember packing for a picnic on the second day of January 2003. It was a family BBQ for a New Years celebration that year. This is something we do every year. My family always goes to the beach, it’s a place we loved to spend quality time together. I didn’t know what to start with, so I grabbed my big red beach ball and all the body floaters I could find, and I stuffed my little yellow bucket with deflated accessories, and jumped in the front seat of my dad’s gigantic white van. By the time I finished blowing up all my toys, I looked back to see the van packed with containers full of marinated meat, gallons of juice tightly secured, stacks of colorful towels, rolls of plastic bags for trash, and my brothers and sister all ready with their seat belts on. Once I heard the keys go into the ignition, the van’s muffled engine started, and I fell asleep on my mom’s warm lap.
The light orange mud after the rain created bumps on the pathway to the beach which woke me up. Excited to get out of the car, I decided to pop my head out the window and stare at the skimpy looking coconut trees. These trees had a thick, dark brown stem which led up to the long, pointy green leaves sprouting out from the middle holding dried up coconuts that fell down one by one, by the hard hit of the sweet and salty ocean breeze. Looking up, there were cotton candy cloud patches on the bright sky. Seagulls flew from left to right,...
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