JakeEdwards95
New Member
- Joined
- Aug 18, 2013
- Messages
- 2
- Gender
- Male
- HSC
- 2013
haven't finished it yet, but basically about a father reminiscing about his childhood memories that he had whilst at this place whilst on holidays, now he has his own children who share the same experiences. I need some ideas of stuff to add and constructive criticism
The sun streaming through the leaves and sparkling into my eyes as I drive my family north, my mind dispersing of all thoughts. A moment in time where you are able to reflect on the true beauty of life and reflect on who you are. The signs of townships pass one by one, each so distinctly recognisable from years before, the landscape and nature changing ever so smoothly as we enter different locations. My mind drifts in and out of reality, images of my father, and past memories flash before my eyes. I finally wake from my dreams, the salty scent of the sea breeze tingling my nostrils - my senses recalling me to the familiarity of our destination.
Memories flood my thoughts - my brother and I racing from the car, crashing our way through the once overgrown and windy trail, the thoughts of what to come de-sensitising the pain of the needle like twigs on bare feet, but now is a concrete path. That glimmer of light that could always be seen ahead stains my memory, becoming larger and larger as we neared it. As we reached the lookout, it felt like time stood still. The perfect lines of swell running through to the shore like clockwork. This is where we belonged each summer.
These were the times I once shared with my father and now the times I will share with my children as well. The kids and I grabbed our boards and ran down the sand dunes trying to put our leg ropes on at the same time, tripping and falling over in front of the bathers, without any of us caring. When we hit the water it felt we had reached our true home, relaxed, fulfilled and not a care in the world. Catching wave after wave, the afternoon sun reflecting of the surface of the water unable to see the faces of those who were making their way out to the line-up. I looked back to the shoreline which once was a vector to a dense covering of shrubs and trees, but now to lines of metal roofing and housing. The curiosity of why my dad would paddle in to the shore first until now had not been answered, calling in my own boys with the innocent response “please dad, one more wave”, just as I once begged.
I decided to leave, walking through the same trail and directions as I did when I was a boy. Although not everything was the same, I could still recognise that empty shack where my brother and I would hide from mum and dad when playing hide and seek. That same swing above the lake, which now is only recognisable through the puddles and distinctive smell, pumped out by the council to create more land. The sign that my father always pointed out to me – “surfers only”, when we walk through the track. I thought to myself if only I could show my father how much everything has changed, exactly what he told me every time we visited this place.
I sit down and after all the reminiscing I laugh to myself, remembering how the boys were going to come in after the next wave, still not here, just as I would have done, sharing the same experiences and sense of belonging I had.
The sun streaming through the leaves and sparkling into my eyes as I drive my family north, my mind dispersing of all thoughts. A moment in time where you are able to reflect on the true beauty of life and reflect on who you are. The signs of townships pass one by one, each so distinctly recognisable from years before, the landscape and nature changing ever so smoothly as we enter different locations. My mind drifts in and out of reality, images of my father, and past memories flash before my eyes. I finally wake from my dreams, the salty scent of the sea breeze tingling my nostrils - my senses recalling me to the familiarity of our destination.
Memories flood my thoughts - my brother and I racing from the car, crashing our way through the once overgrown and windy trail, the thoughts of what to come de-sensitising the pain of the needle like twigs on bare feet, but now is a concrete path. That glimmer of light that could always be seen ahead stains my memory, becoming larger and larger as we neared it. As we reached the lookout, it felt like time stood still. The perfect lines of swell running through to the shore like clockwork. This is where we belonged each summer.
These were the times I once shared with my father and now the times I will share with my children as well. The kids and I grabbed our boards and ran down the sand dunes trying to put our leg ropes on at the same time, tripping and falling over in front of the bathers, without any of us caring. When we hit the water it felt we had reached our true home, relaxed, fulfilled and not a care in the world. Catching wave after wave, the afternoon sun reflecting of the surface of the water unable to see the faces of those who were making their way out to the line-up. I looked back to the shoreline which once was a vector to a dense covering of shrubs and trees, but now to lines of metal roofing and housing. The curiosity of why my dad would paddle in to the shore first until now had not been answered, calling in my own boys with the innocent response “please dad, one more wave”, just as I once begged.
I decided to leave, walking through the same trail and directions as I did when I was a boy. Although not everything was the same, I could still recognise that empty shack where my brother and I would hide from mum and dad when playing hide and seek. That same swing above the lake, which now is only recognisable through the puddles and distinctive smell, pumped out by the council to create more land. The sign that my father always pointed out to me – “surfers only”, when we walk through the track. I thought to myself if only I could show my father how much everything has changed, exactly what he told me every time we visited this place.
I sit down and after all the reminiscing I laugh to myself, remembering how the boys were going to come in after the next wave, still not here, just as I would have done, sharing the same experiences and sense of belonging I had.
