Beach Clouds II

I love the visiting the beach—walking on the smooth, wet sand, my troubles drowned out by the roaring of the ocean and the crashing of waves upon the sand. I love the way the sky reflects in the pools of water left behind at low tide. I love looking for treasures stranded on the shore—shiny agates or the rare whole sand dollar. And I love watching the clouds journey across the sky, so full of majesty.

Clouds are great to watch anywhere, but they always seem more impressive at the beach. Perhaps that’s because the sky grows wider at the beach, with no tall trees to break up the view. I imagine it must be similar on the open prairie, but we don’t have much in the way of prairies in my neck of the woods.

Beach clouds also have the advantage that they are constantly changing. Since their very existence begins with water evaporating from the ocean, it only makes sense that they would be extra-volatile so close to their birth. Like a tiny baby they exhibit many moods, from screaming tantrums when they pile up into thick, black stacks to happier moods when they drift in smiling cumulus patterns across that broad sky.

I love beach clouds—except when they open in downpours that drive me from the sand back indoors where I can only stand and watch from the window. Even then I know that if I just wait long enough, the rain will stop and the beach will once again invite me out to enjoy its beauty.