Storm in the Narrows
I am sitting at the kitchen table, looking out at a squall whipping through the Narrows. What was calm water 2 hours ago is a frothy mix of wind waves and whitecaps, strafed by large caliber rain drops. I can feel the waves breaking against the house pilings.
Looking over to the other side, I see the air is thick with rain. It is a scene from the inside of a cloud, where everything, at virtually every distance, seems slightly obscured by the gauze of wind and water. The current is ebbing and should be picking up speed over the next hour or so. I imagine that will make the channel even more sporty than it is now.
I wonder how many more of these there will be before spring (or summer), gains control of the climate for a while. How many more of these gray days, where March is indistinguishable from October, where 10 in the morning looks a lot like 4 in the afternoon, how many more are there going to be? There are daffodils popping up in the flower pot out on the deck, in what has to be considered an impressive act of faith.
The storm moves through. On the back side, the cloud and the haze is gone, but the wind and the waves remain. Over time, however, even these begin to subside. Soon, I hope, the water will settle a bit… I may even get an evening paddle in before the lights go out.
About Ken Campbell
New Release
A story of sea kayaking and science on the rugged coast of Alaska. Coming – Spring 2014.
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