There are things I like. I will go well out of my way for the chance to do the things i love dearly, and then there's the beach.
Last night wasn't what anyone i've known would call a beautiful night, but to me it was one of the most perfect i can remember.
the sky was a mottled gray-blue brightened and darkened with lighning that never quite broke through the cloud cover. people were scarce, and they moved with urgency from one doorway to another half-crouched as if posture would somehow keep them dry.
It was comical to watch so many people who drove here to swim now so worried about getting wet.
as the storm gathered more tightly together I found a spot by the inlet and stepped out with a smile on my face wondering why people don't enjoy these things I love to do. mostly wondering why not.
the sand feels a certain way when raindrops have been pelting it. almost fluffy. something about that feeling sticks in my mind and makes my hair stand on end when I think about it. I ditched the keys by a set of trash cans and ran North, the rain just a touch cooler than the air and thunder crackling all around. the waves washed noisily over my feet and legs, and I ran in awe of everything around me. the rain was pelting and the wind was driving it at me as hard as it could, but the sand and the ocean were warm. it was amazing.
There are times when I can't rid myself of a single sentence from the day and there are blessed, sacred times when there isn't a single thought in my head. My senses were overcome with input from every direction and it was a welcome oblivion.
The wind picked up and gusts and downdrafts blinded me. every few seconds I'd wipe my face to peer out from under my arm, but I couldn't keep my eyes open or focus for more than a second or two. i stopped on an empty stretch and sat down hard in the sand closing my eyes and wishing I could see everything.
The rain raked shear lines across the beach, and the waves doubled on themselves and crashed backward and sideways with the wind. I wanted to lay in the water but the lightning had drawn right over me. a few times I felt myself jump as everything went brilliant white, and my ears split with the crash. fear is a primal thing with a life and mind of its own, and it catches you between breaths sometimes, like someone grabbing you from behind.
I was exhilirated, and energized, but I was in front of the hotel strip so I got to my feet and ran back to where I'd started. this time down the boardwalk, where some unlucky cyclists were racing back to their hotel.
when I reached the jetty I lay down again wondering about all sorts of things. What was it like to live without jobs and responsibilites? would I be struck by lightning and thereby cured of my love for storms? how nice would it be to be share what I felt with someone who understood why and what I loved about nights like this?
if you've never been kissed (and kissed well) in a warm driving rain, you may not understand, it could have been a passionate moment. One of those defining moments for romance, or lust. Easily sensationalized, or stretched into forever in a memory.
Things change. I desperately wanted to be sharing that moment with my wife. So many moments i've wished that over the years. Cannes on the hillside above the city, Lisbon at dusk, London at Piccadilly Circus, Singapore in the dead of a sleepless night, Guam, watching the sunrise on deck in the harbor.
so many wasted moments.
I always wished her into the frame with me, wondering if it would have mattered. if being together would have satisfied the senses or shattered the facade.
What is it about humanity that destroys a perfect moment? Why are we unable to share them easily?
I have no answer.
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This is really good!
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