A Rainy Day At the Beach (is better than a sunny day anywhere else, right?!)
The weather app let us know that rain was a distinct possibility for many of the days we’d be here. As it turned out, a tropical storm was brewing; Florida would certainly feel it, while SC would get the outer edges and bands.
And unlike the smaltzy, local news weatherman’s predictions, the app was spot on.
It’s been pouring buckets at the beach.
It’s glorious.
Rain does something for me; it’s another God-given, slowing-life-down mechanism and, when combined with beach dwelling, it’s soul care at its finest.
Unlike oppressive heat and even the heaviest of snows, rain showers, short of hurricanes, are mostly short lived. Rain, specifically at the beach in the Autumn, is measured in minutes of burst, even when overcast for hours. And on the subject of overcastness...though the sun rose this morning and daylight arrived, the continual subdued greyness of the day is actually calming and comforting.
There’s a stillness at the beach that only the rain can enforce. The little ones scurry inside while mom and dad lug in all the beach gear. The teenagers who were riding bicycles on the high side of the firm-sanded beach suddenly realize they’re pedaling through quicksand and make a U-ey for the hotel. And surfer dude, while perfectly willing to surf in the rain, can’t surf in the darkness, so he paddles in and calls it a day, brah, as the afternoon fades into evening and the downpour continues. Then all take a moment to watch the majesty of water fall from the sky to meet the other water as it crashes on the shore.
Some might think a rainy day (or days) at the beach feel like a waste.
Me?
It’s exactly the prescription for much of what ails my soul.
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