I know, I missed this weekend’s creativity update…we were away visiting extended family in upstate Pennsylvania, so I’ll have two weeks’ worth of updates for you this Sunday!
In the meantime, today, June 1, is the first official day of hurricane season. These are the things you know when you marry a surfer. Even though they are predicting a near-normal season this year, there have already been two named storms in the Atlantic: Alberto and Beryl. This apparently hasn’t happened (storms before the traditional early delimiter of June 1) since 1908; that year, there were 10 storms. Last year, the first named storm did not form until almost the end of June.
This morning the first hints of Beryl are reaching us in New England: a chill, stiff wind up from the Atlantic, a rise in pressure (I expect to see it fall dramatically later today) that simultaneously clears my nasal sinuses and stuffs my orbital sinuses, a drop in temperature after sunrise, and high, choppy, onshore seas. We got sprayed a little by the sea as we took our morning constitutional along the sea wall. Last night the joints in my knuckles were throbbing, and this morning the little finger of my right hand refuses to bend, and is sticking out, paralysed at an odd angle.* (Until I thought about it just now I didn’t even realise I was typing with it sticking up in the air, and I’m missing all the consonants and vowels that the pinky finger would rightly be typing. I’ve had to shift all the players to right field in an attempt to compensate.) A sure sign of wet weather to come.
*Smashed in a car door in the President’s Day snowstorm of 2003. My doctor thought there may have been surface breakage on the bone, hairline fractures and such, which no splinting or bandaging could have healed. So she told me to take aspirin or ibuprofen and solider on. It is now an excellent predictor of barometric shifts and rainfall.
Until then, though, the breeze is blustering, the birds are singing, and it is lunchtime here.