Did you ever dream that you were a dog agility super champ except then it switched and you were at some germy, grungy, derelict seaside park in the dark and the carnies were actually drug addled zombies that were shambling after you with hammers and their big teeth? And then as you're trying to escape your way out from under their oily, horrible claws by clambering up a rat infested palm tree, you're all, this is about dog agility like, how?
19 January 2010
When the magic of water falling from the sky just makes us all go kind of freaky.
We have been waiting for this bank of storms to hit us dead on. They come and go in waves, with thunder and pounding rain that floods the streets, then stop for a while, leaving the winds to dry everything quickly, in time for the next set to rinse and repeat.
Between the surf noise and the air noise, you can only hear noise from your mouth in your very own ears.
The beach is a bad, dangerous place. The surf hits the rocks too hard, and there are no patches of sand. When the water smacks the rocks, it sprays up top, sending showers of pebble and water and kelp across the road. At low tide, this is where my dogs run in the morning and evening, but during winter storm season, we head to the whale skeletons, on safer, higher ground.
Nothing much to do, but wait it out, and take advantage of every dry patch that comes through.
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1 comment:
Zombie apocalypse in that photo is spot on!
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