Yesterday, in the morning the breeze was only a few puffs of air. By noon it was brisk, and by late afternoon it was wild.
The waves that roared in to the beach were like a never-ending freight train.
When I see whitecaps on the water, I know I don’t want to be out there in a boat, no matter how big it is.
The trees in this area have hardly any branches on the windward side. They have been buffeted by the southeasters for years and years.
But there are some hardy kitesurfing souls who look forward to this stormy weather with great anticipation. One of their favourite places to come is this spit of land that has a slightly sheltered bay on one side of it. Although the bay is not affected by huge surf, there is enough wind from the open ocean side to give good lift to the kites. See the two kites below? The surfers are way below them, out of our line of vision, in the bay on the right side of the road.
If you do as I did — look through all the neighbours’ overhead wires and the fences, down near the bottom of the photo between the bare branches of the tree — you can see one of the surfers. The picture is hazy and murky because the air was so full of moisture, all of it blowing sideways.
I missed the calm before this storm, but I sure enjoyed the calm that came after it the next day. Pink early morning sunshine on the freshly fallen snow always brings a smile to me.
I try not to think about the grouse that may be freezing up on that hill, and I hope all the marmots and squirrels are sleeping someplace, cozy in a winter nest. Down here at the lower elevations it almost seems like spring might come one of these days. I’m ready for it.
If you like wild weather, you might like to read my novel, The Wind Weeps. It has plenty of bad weather scenes set on the coast of British Columbia. Just click on the cover image of the book if you’d like to find out more about it.