Changing Weather

Above:
"The Storm That Wasn't"
pencil sketch in moleskine book

Below:
"The Storm That Wasn't"
acrylic on paper
6"x9"

The other night I saw a storm approaching and quickly put my supplies into my car and rushed to Riverview Beach Park to do another study about the Delaware Memorial Bridge. It started to get dark and dreary with this strange orange glow peaking through as the evening approached. The excitement that a pending storm brings set in as I began to work. However, it never happened. The clouds built then quickly broke apart. No rain, not even a rumble of thunder. Folks continued to walk their dogs and life went on as usual as it does on a warm summer evening in the park.

I couldn't help but think about my own storm that never happened. I'm still trying to get that feeling of foreboding out of my mind. Just like when the weatherman predicts a massive weather event and it doesn't come to fruition, we all seem to talk about what could have been and breathe a collective sigh of relief. Sigh.

On a lighter note, I listened to the weatherman this morning. He said Salem County would miss the early morning rain. I laced up and went for my morning constitutional. He was wrong. I finished my last mile in a drenching downpour. I laughed the entire way home.