Post by goldenmyst on Sept 14, 2021 22:11:55 GMT -6
Bay Storm
One summer as a teenager I spent a month and a half on the coast of Maine. On a good day I usually went to the beach with a book to read. The beach stretched left and right about three and a half miles in either direction. It was a wide beach with a high berm, the part of the sand built up on the upper part of the beach. The beach was built on the shore of a curving bay. There were houses scattered along the shore in both directions.
In the mouth of the bay there were two small islands side by side. One day my uncle and I were out at the beach. It was a cool day and a wind was blowing. I could smell the salty air and hear the wave’s melodious breaking. The day was cloudy. Broken dark grey mixed with white clouds kept passing over occasionally letting the sun peek through.
At that beach nature showed herself to us in a majestic way. Everything was on a large scale and in New England the weather was constantly changing. On that day far to the left was a strange formation of clouds. It was a mighty localized thunder storm passing quickly. It consisted of a large grey flat topped cumulous cloud. Below it everything was grey mist with columns of rain stretching down.
It was moving swiftly, slightly inland on the beach to my left. Far to the left at the edge of the bay the beach abruptly ends and forms a rocky point. The storm began to pass over that point on its way out to sea. Bright yellow lightning bolts traced their way among the columns of rain in the mist. As the storm began to pass the storm was so far away nothing was heard except the constant breaking of the waves. As the storm headed out to sea it began to disintegrate. The columns of rain became jagged and less thick. The cloud appeared to spread out into light grey mist and the sun came out. All during this time my uncle hadn’t said a word. He only glanced at the storm twice and continued to lie on his chest sleeping.
One summer as a teenager I spent a month and a half on the coast of Maine. On a good day I usually went to the beach with a book to read. The beach stretched left and right about three and a half miles in either direction. It was a wide beach with a high berm, the part of the sand built up on the upper part of the beach. The beach was built on the shore of a curving bay. There were houses scattered along the shore in both directions.
In the mouth of the bay there were two small islands side by side. One day my uncle and I were out at the beach. It was a cool day and a wind was blowing. I could smell the salty air and hear the wave’s melodious breaking. The day was cloudy. Broken dark grey mixed with white clouds kept passing over occasionally letting the sun peek through.
At that beach nature showed herself to us in a majestic way. Everything was on a large scale and in New England the weather was constantly changing. On that day far to the left was a strange formation of clouds. It was a mighty localized thunder storm passing quickly. It consisted of a large grey flat topped cumulous cloud. Below it everything was grey mist with columns of rain stretching down.
It was moving swiftly, slightly inland on the beach to my left. Far to the left at the edge of the bay the beach abruptly ends and forms a rocky point. The storm began to pass over that point on its way out to sea. Bright yellow lightning bolts traced their way among the columns of rain in the mist. As the storm began to pass the storm was so far away nothing was heard except the constant breaking of the waves. As the storm headed out to sea it began to disintegrate. The columns of rain became jagged and less thick. The cloud appeared to spread out into light grey mist and the sun came out. All during this time my uncle hadn’t said a word. He only glanced at the storm twice and continued to lie on his chest sleeping.
