My friend Sue in Oregon emailed me this morning, "… I saw on the web site, the storm in your area. I do hope you are OK, and just wind."The Capt calls it a chubasco, but there's no thunder and lightning, just a blustery, wild wind, the kind that makes me want to take a long walk with the dog and watch the waves crash against the rocks and listen to the palms rustling and feel its coolness on my skin. The scientific explanation is that the wind and proximity of rain produce negative ions that improve the mood and boost the metabolism. I could use a little of that. For some reason the Capt and I got an early start with coffee at 5:30 and then fell asleep again, so we had to start all over two hours later.
The sky is gray, darker gray in the direction of Guaymas, where I expect they'll get all the rain as usual.
I took my camera in my backpack down to the marina, which was swarming like a disturbed anthill. Vacationers, charged by all those negative ions, are standing in groups eagerly waiting their turn to climb into the rent-a-boats and venture out into the wind-tossed bay. They drove hundreds of miles, it's Sunday and they'll be back at work tomorrow, and by God they're going to get on a boat or else! Ladies in their new boating togs exchange nervous glances while their novios trade manly jokes and laugh in their bravado. A cluster of city folk, having wandered the docks and gotten bitten by the boat bug, are avidly studying the listings of vessels posted in the window of the sales office.
Ever hopeful, the wood carving man has set out his little dolphins, sailfish and seals as usual, and the Indian lady spread a blanket on the walkway to display her beadwork.
When I think of what I like about summer in San Carlos, it's days like today. I wouldn't mind if we got a little rain as well, but maybe another time.