I may have been a little seven year old, but I still remember everything.  Yes, I do remember the deafening roar of the glistening waves, the typical squawks of the mediocre seagulls, the crisp but frigid air.  I look to my left, and see the morning breeze comb through the sloppy sand dunes.  I look to my right, I see the chilly, salty currents splashing against the soft, comfortable sand. 

All around me are clusters of distinct beach umbrellas, providing protection from the blazing sun for the thousands of people there.  They are like a swarm of ants, all having a great time, playing volleyball, walking, napping, swimming, or eating.  The loud commotion of the Coney Island Beach is overwhelming.  The scent of the delicious barbecue is wafting throughout the energetic area.  Sunny skies are shining as bright as an LED flashlight.  Laughter and chatter is everywhere, as well as sandcastles, some spectacular, some…not so much.

            I stare at the Coney Island Boardwalk and Amusement Park, which is staring right back at me.  I gaze back at the glorious beach of Coney Island, sitting down on my purple beach towel.  I nibble on my crispy Cheetos, getting ready to take a dip in the muddy water.  I get up, and then a conspicuous shout rings in my ears.

“JOEY!  Let’s go home!”  It was my mom.

“Already? But we’ve only been here for a couple minutes!” I protest.
            “Actually, we’ve been here for an hour.  Let’s go or I will leave you here.”

“NOOOO!”

“OK, then I will leave you here, bye-bye.”

Her I-will-pretend-to-leave-you-here-if-you-don’t-come-with-me technique was successful.  I was reluctant to go back to my boring old home.  I take a final glance at the prosperous sea.  My feet is covered in seaweed bits and sand.  The relaxing yet lively mood of the Coney Island Beach makes me wish that I was there right now!