RSS
I'll call it Stormy Thursday, to paraphrase the old blues song. It was beautiful. And to my taste, all too rare. But for this lovely morning, I had the beach almost to myself. Well, almost. And the clouds rolled in and the thunder … But I’m getting ahead of my story.
In South Florida’s summer, rains come and rains go. Usually quickly and typically only in the afternoon. The classic pattern is this: sunny morning, a brief tropical soaking sometime in mid to late afternoon, then a nice clear evening. I’ve always enjoyed that, though lately we haven’t had much rain at my house. On occasion, we’re lucky enough to get a dramatic morning storm. These are among my favorite times at the beach and I’ve only had a few to savor so far this year. This morning, I savored every moment.
I arrived late, around 9 a.m., and when I walked on to the sand I could see exactly six other people spread up and down the beach. By now, a dark arc of thunderclouds was sweeping north along the gray sea’s horizon, encircling the clear sky. It was so unusual that a car from Georgia pulled off along A1A for a photo op. I sat down on the beach for my meditation just as a light dew of rain began to fall. The air was fresh and sea-scented by the breeze and the water droplets felt cool on my arms and back. The grand swirl of clouds now nearly covered the blue and wide flickers of lightning darted into the ocean. A second or two after each bright flick, the boom of thunder echoed. As the rain got heavier, I left the beach for a waterside café, sitting at an umbrella table for 45 minutes with a café au lait and a weathershow too few of us were around to appreciate. The whole beach felt moody, welcoming only the diehards who went running or walking or coffeesipping anyway.
By the time I left, at about 10:30, the show was over. Large patches of blue sky were breaking through from the south and I barely felt a drop on the short walk back to my car. But it had been a very special morning on the beach, a stormy gift given by this early July day, one of the joys possible during summer in South Florida.
In South Florida’s summer, rains come and rains go. Usually quickly and typically only in the afternoon. The classic pattern is this: sunny morning, a brief tropical soaking sometime in mid to late afternoon, then a nice clear evening. I’ve always enjoyed that, though lately we haven’t had much rain at my house. On occasion, we’re lucky enough to get a dramatic morning storm. These are among my favorite times at the beach and I’ve only had a few to savor so far this year. This morning, I savored every moment.
I arrived late, around 9 a.m., and when I walked on to the sand I could see exactly six other people spread up and down the beach. By now, a dark arc of thunderclouds was sweeping north along the gray sea’s horizon, encircling the clear sky. It was so unusual that a car from Georgia pulled off along A1A for a photo op. I sat down on the beach for my meditation just as a light dew of rain began to fall. The air was fresh and sea-scented by the breeze and the water droplets felt cool on my arms and back. The grand swirl of clouds now nearly covered the blue and wide flickers of lightning darted into the ocean. A second or two after each bright flick, the boom of thunder echoed. As the rain got heavier, I left the beach for a waterside café, sitting at an umbrella table for 45 minutes with a café au lait and a weathershow too few of us were around to appreciate. The whole beach felt moody, welcoming only the diehards who went running or walking or coffeesipping anyway.
By the time I left, at about 10:30, the show was over. Large patches of blue sky were breaking through from the south and I barely felt a drop on the short walk back to my car. But it had been a very special morning on the beach, a stormy gift given by this early July day, one of the joys possible during summer in South Florida.
posted by LauderBLOGGER at 2:17 PM
Post a Comment
Links to this post:
Create a Link
<< Home