When the winds pick up and the clouds are dark and scuttling across the sky, that is one of my favorite times to go to the beach. It wasn't a flashy wild, electrical storm of Florida beach times, that can almost make you think you might implode with sheer negative ion joy. It was softly wild, rather, just grey and windy with spitting on and off rain. It was Perfect.
At Flamenco, only one kiosko was open and it only had two customers. On the beach, a guard was planting yellow flags of warming. In front of the beach villas, two people played in the water anyway. They were the only two people in the water. Out of the maybe five people on the entire beach.
Enough sun was getting through to keep the water that out of the spectrum blue and each wave breaking was a painting. But it started raining harder and it was time to go.
Dale drove up to deliver ice to the kiosko as I was heading toward my vehicle. We greeted each other, and mentioned the obviously different weather; how glad we were for the rain. And then Dale said, Just look at that beautiful tree...and we did. I'm sure it was only a long few seconds, but it seemed like a slice out of time. Because we really were looking and we really were seeing. Standing in an almost empty parking lot at the beach, on a very un-beachy day, with this beautiful tree and a friend. Then he went his way and I went mine.
I fell for you all over again, at the very same beach where I first met you almost exactly nine years ago. It was little things that got me to stay with you then, it is the little things that keep me now,
p.s. Thanks for the hummingbird.. You didn't have to. But you did.