I am having one of those, "Hmmm....Did I use this one already?" moments as I post this photo for Skywatch Friday.  I probably did.  In fact, I know I did.  Because whether I am looking east or west, it is the same image.  It is the marvelous light that we wait for, that draws us out, that keeps us sane.  Though I love a good storm, I begrudge the absence of the sun, and I fly out the door at the first indication that it has returned.  It's not that I mind the dark or the gloom of a good storm; it is to say that this is what love does.

A remarkable thing happens on the beach after a storm.  People come out because the storm is over.  The after-the-storm people are not your garden-variety beach sluts who slather on the grease and sprawl on blankets, the ear buds in and the designer take-out perched in the sand, their eyes closed as they dream of all the people on the other side of their eyelids taking in how they look in their bathing suits.  These are the people who stood at the window and watched the storm and were thunderstruck by the relentless drama of a storm that is at its heart objective.  It's not about you on the beach; it's about the storm.  These humble people carry the sun back onto center stage, and they dance with their children.  These people are about respect.  It's easy to believe the sun shines for them.  I go to the beach for them.  And for the sun.

Skywatch Friday