The gray fog and rain eerily lie over the Gulf this morning, hiding anything that might venture to be out there. The wind whips and the waves angrily pound the beach. The fog and rain are steadily moving in and are beginning to enshroud the beach and all that is there. The sound reminds one of what the biblical “mighty rushing wind” might have been. The waves roll and roll; the whitecaps are everywhere. The white foam levels out on the beach and rolls back out to be caught in the next wave and forced to the beach again and again. The word today is “angry.” Two young workers are working feverishly to move the wooden beach lounge chairs farther from the edge at the condo west of where we are as the erosion is threatening where they have them placed. Even as I type, there is a clearing and the boat that has been anchored off shore is eerily appearing with a ghostliness about it. There is a beauty in it all. And a sea gull struggles to fly by.
Posted on: Thu, 04 Jul 2013 13:11:17 +0000
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