We’re driving back from our vacation in the Hamptons now. It’s been cut short by an act of God–torrential rain–and an act of man–Matt called in for jury duty. Not much we can do about either although he boys and I would have stayed out here if it remained sunny. It’s odd how a place so spectacular and incomparably light can be so dreary when the weather changes. The red cedar and beach oak forest is a mystical, magic place when dappled in sunlight, but a dark, damp hollow of mossy trunks and dripping leaves in the rain. The beach is no longer a crystal reflecting light by sand and sea, now it is a cauldron where ominous mists rise off a dark and churning sea.
During the entire ride home rain has pelted our car in sheets so thick we can barely see out the windshield, our wipers at full-speed close to useless. Some lanes have turned to rivers.
I daresay it’s rained more today than all of the summer before. Good for the garden, not great for vacation!