Henry IV may have believed the head that wears a crown lies uneasy. But Sunday's air was every bit as uneasy in anticipation of what Big Rick might have in store for we Mexican coastal folk.
Rick needs no introduction. He is the Category 5 hurricane causing angst for people on Baja and the mainland around Mazatlán. The rumors abounded that we would see massive waves and some wind as Rick waddled north 300 miles off of our coast.
And plenty of people decided that rumors were a reliable source. All day long knots of people stood on the beach watching -- the ocean, just the regular old ocean.
There have been some waves. But nothing spectacular. Now and then we experienced waves that churned the sand rather than slamming into it. That was Sunday's fare.
But the real drama was not in the waves. It was in the air.
The humidity was high enough that the horizon was just a haze. What it blended into was a solid metal gray sky. The type of backdrop that Hollywood likes to use when the machines have beat the humans in some future war.
And the air was still. Probably as still as I have ever seen it during my six month stay. Nothing moved. The palm fronds looked as if they had been painted by Monet.
In the background, Patti Lupone was singing Sand and Water. For some reason, the song reminded me of the first hurricane of the season: Andres. (andres redux)
That storm came closer to our shore. But I remember walking the beach with Jiggs as we watched for our first major storm on the beach in Mexico.
It occurred to me that that was the first time since he died I have thought about him in the context of a specific event. And a pleasant memory it was.
But why today? The answer was in the chorus of Patti's song:
And I did hear that memory "in the sound of the waves."
Tonight, because of it, my head will lie easy.
Rick needs no introduction. He is the Category 5 hurricane causing angst for people on Baja and the mainland around Mazatlán. The rumors abounded that we would see massive waves and some wind as Rick waddled north 300 miles off of our coast.
And plenty of people decided that rumors were a reliable source. All day long knots of people stood on the beach watching -- the ocean, just the regular old ocean.
There have been some waves. But nothing spectacular. Now and then we experienced waves that churned the sand rather than slamming into it. That was Sunday's fare.
But the real drama was not in the waves. It was in the air.
The humidity was high enough that the horizon was just a haze. What it blended into was a solid metal gray sky. The type of backdrop that Hollywood likes to use when the machines have beat the humans in some future war.
And the air was still. Probably as still as I have ever seen it during my six month stay. Nothing moved. The palm fronds looked as if they had been painted by Monet.
In the background, Patti Lupone was singing Sand and Water. For some reason, the song reminded me of the first hurricane of the season: Andres. (andres redux)
That storm came closer to our shore. But I remember walking the beach with Jiggs as we watched for our first major storm on the beach in Mexico.
It occurred to me that that was the first time since he died I have thought about him in the context of a specific event. And a pleasant memory it was.
But why today? The answer was in the chorus of Patti's song:
I will see you in the light of a thousand suns
I will hear you in the sound of the waves
I will know you when I come, as we all will come
Through the doors beyond the grave
And I did hear that memory "in the sound of the waves."
Tonight, because of it, my head will lie easy.
