the author's
the author’s

This is the view from the balcony, as I write. A study in silver, grey, moss & a blued-white. Beach grass, beach umbrellas, and beach birds. The pelicans that usually circle in front of & above the condos that fringe the shoreline have taken cover. Even the intrepid seagulls have fled.

Me? I’m watching in awe, as Nature does her fickle number. A few crazy boys are still wave jumping, but for the most part, the beach emptied quickly. Rain has that effect on folks. It should be sunny at the beach, right??

the author's
the author’s

I don’t care. I can smell the unfamiliar fragrance of rain striking foliage I don’t recognise (well, except for the date palms — too many years in the desert not to know what date palms look like in bloom!): a warm, sweet smell. And of course the sound of heavy rain (this is NOT a drizzle) falling, striking. All while the curling waves continue to roll to shore. The beach could care less.

I’m sure there are folks displeased w/ the weather — my beloved would be, were he not napping. But to me, just being able to observe the rain & waves, breathing deeply of sea grass & wet palm trees, is bliss. The rest of the family is napping, as well: the ever-energetic two-year-old, the son & DIL. I have this moment alone. Already the rain is lessening, and the moment passing. But for now, the only sound score to my life is thunder, and the steady silver music of rain. And in the distance, if you put your ear to the wind, you can hear the sea.

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