Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Thunderhead (May 14, 2011)
Saturday evening - family visiting so we walk to the intracoastal in the evening after a sudden thunderstorm appears out of nowhere, blows through with squalling wind and a splash of rain cools the air. Now the lowering sun shines from a deep blue sky, with brilliant piles of white, yellow, and orange cumulonimbus on the eastern horizon, and our conversation weaves a tapestry through the light and color. We have cameras with us so we can take the usual family snapshots. Instead we take a hundred pictures of clouds reflecting in the water, the full moon nestled between two nimbus knobs or the flying metal egg that holds one-hundred-and-twenty strangers safe, a tiny arrow piercing the storm.
I love these people, the storm, the sun, rain and plane. All my family, including those lost, and those not present walked with me last Saturday beneath that cobalt, cerulean and indigo heaven, all of us golden in the storm’s sun-reflection. Looking at this photo my senses are filled to over flowing not because of artifice or art.