Summer Squalls

The density of the huge wet clouds push the salt air rising from the ocean down filling my nostrils with a strange pungent combination of impending rain and Sea water.

Peeking around our house towards the west I spy massive purple clouds roll south like Sherman marching towards the Sea.

Thunder booms.

Lightning flares in bunches.

Rain pours from the sky hitting the roof so  loudly it is hard to hear.

My first reaction is to cuss loudly ... which is exactly what I do because I can't sit outside on the Beloved Back Deck and continue working.

Jerking my cell phone off the kitchen cabinet I call Sarah, who's off island to warn her and ask her to take her time until the summer squall passes.

Thankfully she's listening to the storm inside the safe confines of Walmart.

"Come on Goddess," I say hanging up. "Come on Winston! "Let's go enjoy the storm."

Downstairs we have a screen in porch with a ceiling fan, television, sofa and chair, decorated with sea shells Sarah's girls bring from the beach and colorful art we've picked up or someone gave me a long time ago.

Goddess rushes on out but Winston, The Little Gay Dog, freezes on the bottom step when he sees it's raining.

He hates rain and before I can grab him he quickly prances upstairs to his hiding place under our bed.

Goddess plops down with her nose against the screen watching the rain.

Sitting in the chair, I do too.

Thunder, lightning, torrential rain are a pleasant experience from the safe confines of the porch.

My friends Dicky Trotter and Matt Few live on leaky boats and I wonder how they're holding up with pots and pans catching water as they wear raincoats huddled wherever it's not dripping.

It's August on an island so chances are a squall is going to hit sometime during the day and they're often quite impressive.

Grabbing the remote I turn on the television and the local channels are all showing graphics of the storm as downright orgasmic Meteorologists warn us to take cover.

I've come to believe most Meteorologists were children who didn't listen to their mothers when they yelled, "COME INSIDE! IT"S GOING TO RAIN!" or "COME IN OUT OF THE RAIN NOW!"

Alas the poor child did not, remains scared from the experience, probably got a whipping and is spending the rest of their life trying to make up for it.

Flipping the channel, Goddess and I watch "Bonanza" ... because to this day I don't know what Adam did to get kicked out of the Cartwright family.

The rain grows light and the sun throws off the blankets of clouds so I turn it back to the Meteorologists who are no longer orgasmic as their forecasts limps to an end.

Immediately, it's 35 degrees hotter.

"Come on Goddess, let's go wait on Mom," I say and she follows me upstairs where Winston, TLGD, remains under the bed ... obviously still traumatized by the whole experience and I wonder if he'll grow up to be a Meteorologist.

On the Beloved Back Deck I put the umbrella back up, plop down in a wet chair, pop the top on a cold beer and bask in the sunshine.

I love summer!

Even the squalls.