The clouds loomed dark upon the horizon as we arrived at the pier on the day of the Sand Castle competition. “A quick look,” we thought. “We’ll hurry.”
There is something about a sand beach and turbulent waves, sailboats reaching out to touch a threatening sky, and ever changing light and haze, with flashes of dry lightning for effect. What fodder for the amateur photographer. We paused, caught the waning light, focusing the lens again and again.
“OK, let’s go and see the sculptures. We should have time. And we do have our umbrellas.”
Pitiful excuse for protection they proved to be against the Great Lakes storm. I’d heard of a blinding rainstorm; now I’ve lived and breathed it. The flash and crash of bellowing skies, the unexpected muscle of the wind, and the mountain of rain that assailed us, drove us along the beach, scrambling for safety. Umbrellas turned back to front whirled us around, like a dancing dervish. Dinosaurs and mighty beasts, walled fortresses and the rising dead vanished beneath the onslaught, mere blobs upon the beach. Not that we cared. “Just get us to the safety of the car! Hold on! Don’t get blown off the pier!” Pelted by drops of rain as large as the pebbles on the shore, we zigzagged through the ambush and collapsed in laughter in the car.
“Can you believe it?”
“I thought I was going off the edge!”
“Useless umbrellas!”
“I’m soaked to the skin!”
Our friend who’d stayed behind smirked smugly as we extolled the uproarious event and lamented the demise of our infamous umbrellas. A shake of our hair was enough to invite him into the experience!
There are choices to be made at times and this was a worthy one… one for the memories!
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