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Over the summer my family and I drove up to Seattle, Washington. While we were there, we went to an island. It was dusk, the perfect time to see wild life. As we drove down the winding road, I looked up at sunset. The glorious, dazzling sun shone through the orange wisps of clouds. I stared at the scene for a moment. I was shaken awake as I saw a lone deer bound through the pine trees.

“Here we are,” my dad called back to Britton and I. Our car came to a halt. The quiet rumbling of the cars engine died. As I opened the door, a relaxing breeze blew across my face. We started off up a small trial through waste high grass. There in the distance was our destination, a small, white lighthouse perched upon a rocky outcrop overlooking the vast sea. It was not along walk, but we took our time. We ran our hands through the grass. When we at last came to the lighthouse, the salty smell of the ocean hit us. The breeze blew a little harder, and the ocean was revealed. The waves crashed continuously over the rocks, “whoosh...shhhewwwhhh...” the sound was hypnotizing. I could taste the salty seaweed. I scanned the driftwood strune water for harbor seals, but had no luck. I watched the seagulls glide and craw. Slowly the majestic skies darkened.
We stood there in the sand watching the sun vanish from view, wishing to stay there forever.





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