At least, I think it might be a hurricance. Isaias can't seem to make up his mind what he wants to be, but I'll be happy if he simply roars a bit on his way up the coast and heads out of town quickly. Topical storm? Tropical depression? Works fine for me. From what I hear, he'll arrive 3ish, in the middle of the night, and then will be on his way late in the afternoon. Sun is forecast for 7 p.m. tomorrow. I might even see the moon rise.
You wouldn't know that a big storm is coming through in a few hours. People are riding their bikes up and down the main road here on LBI and there are even a few runners out. Lots of cars, and people are still checking in to the small hotel where I am staying. One couple decided to leave early. They were due to check out in the morning and decided the wiser course would be to drive this evening after dinner. The thought of losing the money for a night's lodging makes me cringe. But, I can't say that I blame them. I probably would have stayed a little later, though. Maybe walked on the beach in the evening or had a late dinner. Who wants to leave the beach, even with a storm coming?
For my part, I arrived at 2 and had what felt like a full day. I did not get out to the beach until about 3:30, but I still managed to get sun-kissed in some places, sunburned in others. I need to remember that the sun goes right through the shirt I wore today.
A wonderful breeze blows this evening, and the temperature has dropped about twenty degrees. I sit outside and listen to the surf. I'd like to write something profound, but I give myself credit for writing at all. I feel like goofing off, but a daily writing practice is just that, even if it's only five words. I've done that before. Last summer I did it a lot, published one good sentence, especially all those days that I had to use my phone. Lots of power outages last year. Storms.
Now that it's dark, I can't see the angry-looking clouds roll in. Insects sing and waves crash on the shoreline and it could be any other night at the beach.
But I won't leave the windows to my room open to hear the surf tonight and in the morning I'll wake to, what? I didn't finish the sentence because someone is setting off fireworks and I'm enjoying their colors. I search for my ending and flail about while other things beckon. Aren't I here to write? Why, yes. I am. Sometimes writing is simply sitting still and listening for what wants to be expressed, and it does not necessarily come when I sit in front of my laptop ready for the words to come.
The words may not be coming, but the rain is. Softly, at first.
Days of Accidental Beauty: 40 Days of Noticing is a daily writing practice that invites discovery.
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