To Irene…

The sun has not even begun to blink its gaze our way and I am awake.  Listening to the wind howl and blow through all the hollow spaces I figure a quick walk up to the beach is in order and slip out quietly into the night.  Only a few raccoons are my company scurrying into the palmettos as I make my way to the ocean.  Stars are beaming in the wide open sky with no trace of a squall ready to purge out upon my head.  I cross over A1A and see the waves reaching out towards me, beckoning me to experience their power.  It’s dark but the moonlight vividly enhances the whitecaps churning relentlessly, as the tide continues to creep towards the helpless dunes awaiting their slow painful demise.

 Approaching the bottom of the staircase I notice the ends of the hand rails which had been buried in the sand for several years are now are naked to elements. The balls of foam running for their lives stick to my legs as currents of sand blast me in the face while I step carefully into the path of oncoming waves.  The warm water is a surprise to my feet as I expected a shock of harsh coldness mirroring the brutality of this system and its fury.  Peering out into the thick black darkness it’s eerie to think of the monstrous swirling force ready to prey upon our northern neighbor’s coastline, wreaking havoc with it’s every breath.

Mother Nature and her powers are amazing and beautiful, unless of course you are her victim.

 

my other space…http://lizlobiznach.blogspot.com/2011/08/four-hours-of-sleep-is-goodright.html