Out in the weather

I've been having reoccuring dreams about going to Disneyland in a snowstorm. The dream is very lucid and blue-tinted, and kind of absurd because I always end up on Splash Mountain. Anyway, it inspired me to visit the beach today, only the second time since I moved here that I've actually been within touching distance of the water.

An isolated snowstorm whipped overhead as the sun set in streaks of magenta behind rolling clouds on the horizon. The air was a frosty 19 degrees, with the wind chill it felt at least 10 degrees colder. I had only my work cloths to wear, though I have to admit I dress rather substantially indoors to survive my Alaskan boss's perpetual miserly-ness with the heat. I walked along the tideline, scanning the sand for shells in an effort I haven't made since those family vacations to southern California. I only picked up two ... the effort of removing my hands from my down vest was saved only for the most promising. I rotated them in my fingers until I could no longer feel the rough surfaces, then absentmindedly tossed them back into the sea.

I walked a little too far out and had to run almost a mile back to my car, into the 4:30 p.m. twilight and snow flurries, the promise of a long night in the glitter of distant lights.