Coming Storm

Location: Great Bay Estuary

The boat with its tearing bow parted the waters the estuary, which were grey with the reflection of the ominous clouds above upon them. It was rushing toward the research station, vying to beat the storm which so evidently was here.

A wall of angry clouds, the color of ash and smoke that would arise from a forest fire of serrotinous pitch pines, has a face-off with our boat, its bow pointing accusingly at the accumulations. The captain breaks the confrontation at times and veers through the water, spraying us with the reflective, semi-salt water. Far off and behind a bridge, I observe a light gray veil of rain that has descended over the houses and forest. Above these regions, the clouds seem to blend with the sky. The falling water vapor causes downward streaks at the bottom of the clouds, obscuring the usually distinct line between them and the sky.

A drop of rain hits my arm. We have reached the storm.