Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Moments in Time - 1. Stormy waters
I can't believe that jerk. Just because his cousin saw me in a gay bar, he doesn't want to work on the MainStreet Project with me? At least the team splits next week and I won't have to deal with him any longer. If only I can put up with his snide remarks until then...It seems a bit dark for 6, maybe there is a storm brewing? I hope so.
Pulling into my parking spot, I watched the wind whipping the tree leaves for a bit. I shut off the engine and hurried into the house. As soon as I was in the door I grabbed the TV remote and tuned to NOAA's channel. Anxiously I read the scroll on the bottom. Then I heard it! The announcer just warned of a small craft advisory, waves 8 feet!
I raced to the bedroom, throwing my work clothes off as fast as I could. Cutoff shorts, old tee shirt, thick socks, and my boot....
Where are my boots? A fast scan of the room revealed nothing. The laundry room, I left them drying in the laundry room! I laughed and raced for them. The branches beat against the roof and walls, urged me to hurry. I pulled on my boots, grabbed a rain coat and my keys and I was off.
A neighbor at her kitchen window smiled and waved as I walked by, clearly thinking I was nuts to be outside in the approaching storm. A soft chuckle escaped me as leaves torn from their branches danced down the street. As I neared the end of the block, my pace picked up, almost running now.
Ah there is the path!
I slipped through a small copse of trees to the farmer's access road beyond. The upper branches of the huge lotus trees bent toward the ground in the storm's fury. A caricature of a peasant bowing before royalty.
Maybe this storm is too bad? I paused, listening and looking. Should I turn back? Faintly I heard the roar of the waves calling me, luring me on. I crossed the dirt road and tread on the far edge, laughing at my self. I was scared of the tree branches, as if they could reach down, grab me, and fling me into the storm.
There! There is the wood post that marks the old walk to the beach. I darted into the trees and down the wooden stairs. I reached the last remaining step and slowed down. I grabbed tree branches and boulders as I climbed down to the stream. It had swollen over its bank, the lake surge already flowed upstream. I heard the waves even louder here. I climbed up the last hill, just around that corner I'll see the lake!
At the top I stopped. A tree had fallen and was blocking my way. I could hear the lake roaring its anger, but I couldn't see it! Slowly and carefully I examined the tree. I didn't want the tree to fall further when I was under it or over it. The top seemed to be firmly wedged between two trees on the other creek bank. The bottom of the trunk was on the ground, roots reaching out like dirty fingers. It shouldn't go anywhere. Carefully I clambered onto the trunk and froze!
The waves surged toward the beach, angrily tossing their white hair. They crashed against the cliff, and roared. The wind carried the smell of rotting fish off the lake, overpowering the green wood smell of the tree I perched on. Each wave stormed in, crashed over the non-existent beach, and retreated. A blood red sun, crouched low in the sky observed quietly.
A small block of clay broke off the cliff and fell.. A greedy wave pulled it toward the lake. The next wave screamed and grabbed the clay, flinging it back against the cliff. Two little kids who squabbled over a toy!
A quick scan of the skies showed no looming storm clouds. A large wave rewarded my inattention by sending up a fine mist. I laughed as the spray hits my face, safe on my perch high above the beach. Each wave took away my tension with its assault on the cliff. Time does not exist here, the sun, the wind and myself were silent witnesses to the battle between waves and cliff.
A seagull cried. I was surprised, they don't like to fly in high winds. Looking for the gull, I noticed the waves are smaller. The storm was ending.
There! There is the gull. It struggled against the wind, scanning the foamy waves, hoping for a meal. I saw the wind pushed the gull backward and its wings beat frantically to move forward.
Suddenly the gull dove. For a long moment I watched anxiously. Did the gull catch something? Did it misjudge and get caught by a wave? There it was, a huge fish in its beak. The gull turned, using the wind to glide home. The roar was noticeably quieter. Glancing down I noticed the waves no longer beat against the cliff. A few inches of beach were visible. The sun dipped into the lake and turned the waves rosy. I slid off the log away from the lake, wincing as the rough bark scraped my calf. I began the long, slippery climb back up the cliff to go home.
- 10
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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