On the cusp of hurricanes...

As a resident of the "Hurricane Belt" part of my daily routine involves checking NOAA at least once. I have developed a fascination (perhaps even an obsessive one) with all things hurricane. My newest procrastination method is researching past photos/articles of when Ivan hit Grenada in 2004. Now to calm my mother's palpitating heart, Ivan landing a direct hit on Grenada was a freak incident. In fact, it was the first hurricane to hit Grenada in nearly 4o years. I expect that I will complete my 2.5 years with a tropical storm or two under my belt, but nothing more impressive than the storms hurled at our windows when we lived in Ketchikan. Currently there is a depression settled on top of us creating a lovely red mark over the Leeward Islands. This lovely rash on NOAA's screen has provided Grenada with a much needed umbrella from the unrelenting sun. I wore capris to class on Friday! Usually even the thought of wearing something that covers more than a foot of my thighs would cause me to start sweating profusely. And on Friday night I slept with just the fan and jungle air. It was heavenly.

This gathering of clouds also brought a week of splashy sunsets. One in particular mesmerized me. There are moments when you see something and realize you've never experienced anything like it before. That it's momentous and truly unique. I was studying in the loveseat and glanced up to take in the ocean as I usually do only to find my senses assaulted by the colors in the sky. How on earth could the whole sky catch on fire and I be completely oblivous to it? And where did that thunderhead come from? I am sure that my jaw was open as I stared out at the scene. I truly felt like something large and primal had snuck up on me. The sky was so vibrant it was almost unsettling. Sunsets near the equator allow only a few quiet moments, deep breaths, and then by the time you've dashed to find your camera they're gone. My camera has strategically found a home on my dining room table...a mere four steps from my balcony. I snapped several photos of the crimson thunderhead pummeling upwards above the sea. But perhaps moments like that are not meant to be captured...as if nature knows film will not do the event justice. Regardless of the reason my camera chose to "eat" the photos, along with several others. I was completely and utterly despondent. My camera almost tested out my emergency door. So it was with profound joy that I saw my friend Sam (who lives about 500 yds down the road from me) had caught photos of the behemoth and placed them on Facebook. He did not snap a shot of when the thunderhead glowed red...in fact the photo he took is probably a second or two before the whole thing lit up...before I looked up. So here it is...Now...imagine it on fire...and you're almost here.