Wednesday, July 13, 2005

Raining Clam & Oyster Shells

Dark rain
Heavy dark rain
Ghost story dark rain
Ominous ghost story dark rain
Turbulent, ominous ghost story dark rain
Slashing, turbulent, ominous ghost story dark rain

We knew it was coming, the air was heavy and sultry. By early morning the power had gone out (forget the hot showers and coffee)……We do need the rain, however. My garden was wilting under the hot summer heat, and the sand was hot even to seasoned bare feet.

With the power restored, we made coffee, opened up the shop and made this quick note to all of you to let you know we are still alive and well.. (The internet has been fragile the past couple of days so no blog!)

So here I sit in the Village Craftsmen, peering through windows that are as dark as night, listening to the rain on the rootop, waiting for a sopping wet tourist to come through the door so we can chat about the weather, of course.

If the power goes out again (which it will)...we'll light a candle just for you!

Lou Ann

[Our current monthly Ocracoke Newsletter is the story of Kunigunde Guth Howard, published June 30, 2005. You can read it here:]


1 comment:

  1. Anonymous10:07 AM

    Lou Ann, I loved your poem about the rain! I might use that in writing workshop, if you don't mind! We've finally gotten some rain here too. It will be sunny in the morning, then we'll get a shower in the late afternoon. I didn't mow last week, it was so dry. I'll go out today to mow before we leave early Sat. morning for the Outer Banks. See you! LuAnne