My first hour of the day

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John Butcher 10f English coursework My first hour of the day November 18th, Mystery Cay, a small island off the coast of Australia. As I opened my sleepy eyes I could see the morning dawn breaking in front of me. The rays of the glowing sun beaming brightly down on the crystal blue waters of the Pacific Ocean, sparkling like a diamond. Overhead the squawking of the birds is the only sound to be heard over the calm shores. The gentle sea breeze swaying the palm trees above my hammock and softly rocking me from side to side. I leaped out of my netted hammock on to the golden sand, where the grains of sand underneath my feet almost massaging it as I walked towards the sea edge. As I got closer to the sea front I could hear a tranquil swishing sound of the waves hitting the beach. The warm seawater rushed up over my ankles and as it trickled back down to the ocean my feet soothingly sunk into the saturated sand. I took my feet out and ran
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through the wind then vaulted into the sea, under the wave I went and back up into another one. I lay on my back for a while relaxing whilst the sedate waves lightly washed over my body. I turned on too my front and went for my morning swim up to the strikingly colourful reefs and back. I got back on to the shore refreshed and wide awake ready for my habitual day ahead. I lazed in the intense sunbeams for while though drying off my wet body. As soon as I was dry I felt a bit peckish so ...

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