A shower

This morning I walked a few miles to the lighthouse at the end of the land at the end of the world (Finisterra) here. It was a beautiful walk in the cool wind and sun and clouds. But the rain comes in batches here. I wrote the following as I waited in a glassed-in bar at the lighthouse for one of those rains to pass.

Rain beats against the windows. Fog builds up on the inside. I can almost not see the ocean below. To the east only a wall of grey white, to the west some clearing but the rain continues to run heavily down the windows. I can barely see the big rock in the water below. Two walkers come in water flowing off their raincoats and backpacks. We will be all together for a while, the ten or so that wandered in before the rain and the two who just arrived…. But maybe not so long; the sky is already getting lighter in the direction where the rain is coming from…. A german couple ventures out. The rain is less. Only a few drops on the ground now. Two more, no three, venture out. It’s over. I can head bck to Finisterra. Looks cold. Not so as I walk out. The sun is already shining brightly and the yellow flowers on the mountainside are brilliant. A 15-minute shower is history.


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