The white sand was almost as blinding as snow.
It darted back toward her, and she scrambled to get out of its path, tossing sand at it.
He scraped sand over the scorpion, burying it from her view.
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.
She hit the soft sand and he was instantly on top of her, wrestling the whip from her hand.
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.
The world dumped her on top of a pile of sand near the boardwalk with the angry black sea roaring behind her.
Water, sand, and hair stung her vision and lungs.
Sand flew as they soared and leapt through the desert.
Sand had already begun to trickle into the bottom.
When the sand runs out, your deal with Past-Death is finished.
The sand only moved one way, even when upside down.
He patted the sand beside him.
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.
He patted the sand beside him.
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.
No sooner had I been helped into my bathing-suit than I sprang out upon the warm sand and without thought of fear plunged into the cool water.
This small instrument impressed me most because it made me think how weary the heroic navigator must have felt as he saw the sand dropping grain by grain while desperate men were plotting against his life.
A. says God made me and every one out of sand; but it must be a joke.
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.
I dug my cellar in the side of a hill sloping to the south, where a woodchuck had formerly dug his burrow, down through sumach and blackberry roots, and the lowest stain of vegetation, six feet square by seven deep, to a fine sand where potatoes would not freeze in any winter.
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.
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.
Kutuzov, dejected and frowning, sat on a bench by the bridge toying with his whip in the sand when a caleche dashed up noisily.
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.