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The News Not The Weather

I remember a tempestuous August storm. It was nothing more than a strong summer rain. But sheets of water were falling from the sky and collecting in quick inches on our street and I was scared. My parents flung open the doors and stood outside to marvel at the intensity and I thought, not for the last time, “these people are nutso.” Inside it never torrential downpours; inside it is safe. I was a worried child and weather was too chaotic. I preferred to close the curtains and curse the darkess then light a candle and read. I would have gladly accepted a world without water. Twenty years later I moved to the Gulf of Mexico.

We live in a house on the ocean and sometimes the waves are high. And I know that I am not in danger and I know that there is nothing we can do. It has been a good lesson for me, actually. Dry land is one way but out front the menacing ocean acts out, thrashing though not caring. The tide rises and falls. It is more dramatic during certain phases of the moon. When there’s a Norte we might see high seas and winds that bend the palms. Foam from the ocean rains on the south side. Nature’s party crashes gates and disturbs the order of our planted garden. But if after yesterday we saw the sea retreat and sand restored I have some faith that it will today and tomorrows.

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