He patted the sand beside him.
He scraped sand over the scorpion, burying it from her view.
The white sand was almost as blinding as snow.
He patted the sand beside him.
She shot back, kicking sand in his direction.
The white sand reflected the hot sun back at them until they were dripping with perspiration.
Kutuzov, dejected and frowning, sat on a bench by the bridge toying with his whip in the sand when a caleche dashed up noisily.
He stood and brushed the sand from his clothes and then helped her to her feet.
Water, sand, and hair stung her vision and lungs.
The world dumped her on top of a pile of sand near the boardwalk with the angry black sea roaring behind her.
She brushed sand from her pants.
Sand had already begun to trickle into the bottom.
As she watched, the horses plunged down a dune, sending a spray of white sand into the dry air.
Pete's gravely voice cut through her thoughts like sand on a frying pan.
It darted back toward her, and she scrambled to get out of its path, tossing sand at it.
Grabbing an armful of the hay they had packed around the supplies in each wagon, she dropped it on the sand and the mules eagerly began devouring it.
Cassie rolled over and stood, dusting sand from her clothes.
She was tending the mules when she saw a rider on top of a sand dune.
The body fell from the horse at Bordeaux's feet, but he barely noticed as he plunged to the sand on his chest.
The flames threw eerie lights into the sand around the wagons, but nothing moved.
The only sound was the muffled sound of hooves in the sand and the occasional clink of a harness.
She dug her fingers into the soft sand, avoiding his eyes.
The air was heavy and fragrant, the wet, solid sand near the ocean welcome after her initial attempt to keep up in the sugary sand higher up the beach.
Sand flew as they soared and leapt through the desert.
The sand only moved one way, even when upside down.
Sometimes when you look at a grain of sand in your hand, you forget that there couldn't be a beach without every one of them.
Frustration finally drove the couple to play the game the same way—contact no one, put your head in the sand, and hope everyone leaves you alone and forgets you exist.
However, total head-in-the-sand inaction wasn't possible.
I have watered the red huckleberry, the sand cherry and the nettle-tree, the red pine and the black ash, the white grape and the yellow violet, which might have withered else in dry seasons.
These are all the materials, excepting the timber, stones, and sand, which I claimed by squatter's right.
When my floor was dirty, I rose early, and, setting all my furniture out of doors on the grass, bed and bedstead making but one budget, dashed water on the floor, and sprinkled white sand from the pond on it, and then with a broom scrubbed it clean and white; and by the time the villagers had broken their fast the morning sun had dried my house sufficiently to allow me to move in again, and my meditations were almost uninterupted.
No residents were left in Moscow, and the soldiers--like water percolating through sand--spread irresistibly through the city in all directions from the Kremlin into which they had first marched.
Ridges of sparkling white sand surrounded the camp like a sleeping dragon, soaking heat from the sun - resting now so it could spit its fiery breath at them later in the day.
As the big wheels turned, they tossed sand up and over the rim.
She hit the soft sand and he was instantly on top of her, wrestling the whip from her hand.
The sand lay white around them like a blanket of snow.
She dropped to the sand as a hail of bullets whistled above her head.
Using the extra sand, they made fortifications and bedded down for the night behind them.
Then he brushed the sand from her pants, finishing up with a light slap on her backside.
Cassie scooped sand to make a pillow and put her hat over her face.
If any rays missed their bodies, the sand reflected it to them.
Cassie cleaned the supper dishes as best she could with sand, and stored them in one of the packs.
Each carrying two canteens, a rifle and a lantern, they started off into the long shadows of the sand dunes.
The white sand blowing around looked like a Texas blizzard.
She jerked her hand away from the sand and stared up at him, a lump forming in her throat.
When the ache had left her legs numb, and her breath was no longer coming in gasps, they started out again - across sand dunes - up and down.
The soft sand in the ravine would make it simple for the Indians to detect where they had emerged.
The sides were left shelving, and not stoned; but the sun having never shone on them, the sand still keeps its place.
Near the end of May, the sand cherry (Cerasus pumila) adorned the sides of the path with its delicate flowers arranged in umbels cylindrically about its short stems, which last, in the fall, weighed down with good-sized and handsome cherries, fell over in wreaths like rays on every side.
Early in the morning I worked barefooted, dabbling like a plastic artist in the dewy and crumbling sand, but later in the day the sun blistered my feet.
Viewed from a hilltop it reflects the color of the sky; but near at hand it is of a yellowish tint next the shore where you can see the sand, then a light green, which gradually deepens to a uniform dark green in the body of the pond.
The shore is composed of a belt of smooth rounded white stones like paving-stones, excepting one or two short sand beaches, and is so steep that in many places a single leap will carry you into water over your head; and were it not for its remarkable transparency, that would be the last to be seen of its bottom till it rose on the opposite side.
I brought over some whiter and cleaner sand for this purpose from the opposite shore of the pond in a boat, a sort of conveyance which would have tempted me to go much farther if necessary.
When the frost comes out in the spring, and even in a thawing day in the winter, the sand begins to flow down the slopes like lava, sometimes bursting out through the snow and overflowing it where no sand was to be seen before.
The various shades of the sand are singularly rich and agreeable, embracing the different iron colors, brown, gray, yellowish, and reddish.
What makes this sand foliage remarkable is its springing into existence thus suddenly.
It is wonderful how rapidly yet perfectly the sand organizes itself as it flows, using the best material its mass affords to form the sharp edges of its channel.
She inclined her head to indicate the endless sand, broken only by an occasional yucca or chickweed.
All that churning of sand and dust disguised their trail to some degree, but nothing could hide the trail of five heavy wagons.
She swished it around in her mouth to wash out the sand and then spit.
Bordeaux was stretched on the sand outside the firelight, leaning on one elbow while he ate.
She poured sand over the fire and waited long enough to make it appear she had given his invitation consideration.
Bordeaux filled the canteen and headed into the sand again.
The muffled sound of hooves on sand approached the opening between two wagons.
Bordeaux hit the sand on his feet, a rifle in his hands.
They converged then, and moved quietly across the sand, hoping the Indians didn't burst from the night to attack them.
He dropped to the sand and crawled the rest of the way to the top, peering over the edge before he motioned for her to continue.
The sand stretched out before her, their tracks pointing to the escape route.
A small hourglass with black sand was in his palm.
What we need to make its parts—iron ore to make steel, rubber to make tires, sand to make glass, petroleum to make plastics—is generally a few cents' worth of raw materials.
It was hard, smooth sand, very different from the loose, sharp sand, mingled with kelp and shells, at Brewster.
A. says God made me and every one out of sand; but it must be a joke.
The rails are laid on them, and they are covered with sand, and the cars run smoothly over them.
There are many furrows in the sand where some creature has travelled about and doubled on its tracks; and, for wrecks, it is strewn with the cases of caddis-worms made of minute grains of white quartz.
A factory-owner, hearing what depth I had found, thought that it could not be true, for, judging from his acquaintance with dams, sand would not lie at so steep an angle.
The material was sand of every degree of fineness and of various rich colors, commonly mixed with a little clay.
Cassie kicked sand over the fire.
In my front yard grew the strawberry, blackberry, and life-everlasting, johnswort and goldenrod, shrub oaks and sand cherry, blueberry and groundnut.
He sorted around through the sand and finally motioned for her to follow.
By the time we were finished it was dark and the sand was blowing so bad we might have got lost, so we stayed in the cave until it let up.