Thunderstorm surfing before the night
The sun is long gone, and we still drift in the ocean, lying on our surf boards, reading the waves. Far away dark clouds build up in the dawn, huge and black. An intimidating scenery for us surfers.
The sky changes and mixes to blood red and dark pink colors, the tide rises and even the birds leave their trees for elsewhere. Far away, dark clouds build up in the dawn, and the howler monkeys seems dumb against the drumming rumbling in the sky.
This hour becomes a giant theatre where we’re just a small element. When paddling out, taking the beating of the waves, the pink of the sky absorbes you like the water around you. It takes a few moments, and there are the first rain drops, forming a heavy downpour of water within seconds.
Despite all of this, we don’t want to leave. The water is warmer than the air, spining around us and hissing, but in the water it is much more silent. We’re a part of the ocean, we drift along the shore. Far away, dark clouds build up in the dawn, and we turn around our boards, we steal a glance of what is behind us. The country side is illuminated by lightnings, the hills appear and disappear in seconds. The beach is dark, and the thunder is close as your skin feel the sound.
The wave I jump and escort for a few seconds, it gets a long drive in the light of the lightnings and the heavy rain pouring down my face. It is beautiful.
It is beautiful that we could stay here forever, even during the thunderstorm. But the voices from afar are calling us, and soon we will have to follow them.
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