Rupture and Reflection

Posted on October 26, 2002 in Travels - So Cal Weather

For the last two weeks, clouds stretched from horizon to horizon like the a drum skin made of elephant hide. And then, last night, right after I watered the drooping impatiens and dwarf date palm, the barometer fell just enough to pierce the rain-withholding underfilm. Streets turned the color of molten licorice. In the morning, here on the hilltop, clouds hugged the slopes until about one in the afternoon. Then the clouds broke up into wads like the stuffing that the cats pull out of the back of the couch.

We went down to Huntington Beach where we took a walk to the end of the pier, pitied a seagull with one foot, and watched the surfers drifting on their boards as they waited for the good waves. I looked back towards our home: a cloud wrapped itself around the mountain, but it was disintegrating rapidly. We had dinner next to a sunlit window and came home by way of Irvine, enjoying the reflection of the blue sky in the backwaters of Newport Bay.

Poor Blaz. He left just before things got good here.

Photos will appear soon.