Dark dramatic clouds March towards me and I can see rain in several directions on the horizon. My art supplies, books and pens are all still packed in the basket ready for a quick escape. Drips hit my feet- an advanced warning as my pen flies to finish this line. I run…
The rain drums down deafeningly loud while I enjoy the peace and quiet of losing the other guests to their suites, shops and restaurants. This is the beach I know, the deserted beach, the beach to ourselves, either in rain or in sunshine. This is the beach that I love, the beach that sets my soul free and my imagination wild, wild like the wild exhilarating weather, carried away on the waves and the tides.
I am soaked, the rain is torrential, baby is wet, puddles form everywhere, the children’s squeals and shouts of delight or frustration are drowned out. There is peace in all this noise, the air is crisp, though it will be humid later. I enjoy the freshness of now as the storm stirs deep within.