Today I only hope my cough subsides before my forehead burns off all the sun-bathed layers of sensitive skin I destroyed. God it burns, aloe does nothing. We won’t know just yet, because my attention is now drawn to the beach and the ocean beyond it. The image is quite a spectacle. My brother notes, “St. John is practically hidden now” and we watch from our window the gray fog covering the surrounding islands. Unsure of its direction, a rainbow shines on my left. The water in the distance begins to show signs of activity. The clouds grow thicker and darker. There was a spread of small sailboats out there in the water, and now they seem hidden in the storm. People in the resort below begin to hustle and shuffle now, knowing full well that it”s about to downpour soon.
I’m watching this from the patio; the wind is getting strong. These pages can’t really stay down, I need another hand to hold them as I write. Like an oncoming wave, the water shows the rain coming closer and closer, the pit-patter creating a white-colored gradient across the blue, clear blue ocean. Even now, rain is lightly sprinkling on me. The palm trees are really moving now. The people are running away, grabbing their things and heading indoors. The towel boys hustle from chair to chair, taking all the towels and bringing them to the covered bins. So much is done on the fly. The greatest image was the ocean water getting hit by the downpour. The water changing color, as if an epic entity was quickly approaching. It was beautiful.