Yesterday, the cool sea breezes almost seemed refreshing against the first warm day of April, but they gave warning of what was to come today.
I woke around 2AM early this morning or late in the night depending on your perspective, to see if I could eye the Blood Moon Lunar Eclipse. A gentle drizzle was already falling and the moon was blanked from the sky by a puffy blanket of roiling clouds. As I fell back to sleep I could hear the winds freshen. When I walked on the docks at 9AM, the wind was already blowing a steady 20 out of the Southwest. The steel grey waves impatiently rolled over the shallows of the low tide, almost frustrated that they could not make true landfall. And the gentle drizzle had turned to a driving infrequent rain.
At Noon the tide had come in and the waves began rolling over the breakwater. Each bald rock in the Harbor took on a shock of white hair around their edges giving the appearance of a submerged group of large headed men suffering from male pattern baldness. The dock house began to sway on it pilings and a wall of water blew against the windows. It was a indeed the gale the weatherman promised.
But these are the days I remember most fondly and the ones where I find the most beauty in LIS. Perhaps its the anger in the wind or the confusion in the sea, but the chaos touches a part of me that must have genetics in common with the gulls or petrels.
Only they can be heard between the howls of the breeze and it is only the birds who effortlessly lift from a piling to ride a wave of wind and then settle back down with feathers ruffling back into place despite the pounding rain and surf. There is no dog or cat, no fish or fowl to be seen on days like this along the shores. The birds alone stand guard against the incoming and outgoing tides paying no attention to the fierce weather. I envy their fortitude.
I myself am hiding inside, huddled next to an electric radiator. The cracks of the shack hold out the rain, but do little to ward off the unstoppable wind. I am wearing my foul weather gear not because I am wet, but because it braces against the wind better than the walls around me and I have run out of paper towels to stuff in the cracks.
And just as I muster the will to open the door and make way for the car, prepared to get soaked and struggle against the breeze, all seems to go quiet. Has the rain stopped? Is this just a lull? It gives me pause and I look up from my work, only to be greeted by another pound on the wall and spray of rain on the window.
She is angry today for some reason. Was it something I said? Did I forget her birthday? LIS doesn't care if you know her or care if you love her in return. Her anger has no purpose and her wrath unrelenting. She will smile some other day and give you reason to love her once again- but today she is angry and it is a thing of beauty.
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