Kinda Stormy

While I was distracted thinking about a ten-mile-square raft of jelly-fishes in the Irish Sea, a gigantic storm snuck up on me. I tried to head to sea but the swells and the wind were too great, so I ended up jumping right over this Jetty. Lord, I thought my days were over. I am blinded, pretty much, by the ordeal and pretty scraped away but every creature was trying hard to live. The mighty fishes went out to sea, as ever fast as they could, but the sand-dwellers turned over and over and were worn away like so many old newspapers. Many trees also fell. There were great thuds we could hear in the water, even far out, as they went down, the shocks carrying clear through the storm and surge to even little me. Once I was over the Jetty, there was all this fresh water and debris to contend with, and out I went, with the offal and broken trees and bits of things, way out in the great sea-delta of the Columbia River, until finally I was able to begin to work my way back, behind the prop of a crab boat headed for Seaside. It took no time to come up to the beach again, with that swell, and there was Robbie, soaked through so that the little pink skin under his curls showed up wetly, his beard streaming salt spray and rain, barked hoarse. His people were OK, so he ran away and spent two and a half days barking for me, running to and fro. What a friend. I was grateful to hear his whistling bark, to feel his anxious snuffle on my perimeter as he sniffed and sniffed, "is it really you?"

This storm seems all out of proportion. There is another one coming in behind it, wetter and slower, I can smell it.