The sand was whipping down the beach strong enough to peel paint. Looked cool as heck, about a foot off the ground, this cloud of particles rushing by at four or five times the speed of light, it seemed.
I put my arms out once to try and gague the velocity, relying on old feelings and memories from sailing. My guess was sustained winds peaking at 35 mph, gusting at least 45.
However average sustained was probably around 25. Double-reef at least.
Reality settling in with me settling in; no more the moving, now the moved. Drivers license changes, as well as registering the truck which (I didn't know) I found out doesn't have to be smogged outside Portland and greater Willamette Valley. Imagine that.
Shoulda spent another thousand on painting supplies. Oops.
I tell ya, liquid oil -- aka Rustoleum -- is something else as a medium. But that's the Picasso Lowbrow post.
Back to being a poor guy. The run with the fun was great while it lasted. I think of Bill Murray's character in "Stripes," just before the enlistment: "And then depression set in."
Let's hope not.
No comments:
Post a Comment