Storm Surfing
Sparse plods of rain fell onto sand,
White cloud turned to airforce-blue.
Treading the drying beach flats,
Heading for surf
As a heavy deluge blew from the land.
Beads pelted backs, now quite hunched,
As ankles chilled in the shallows;
Striding deeper into jumpy waves
Seemingly on reins,
As a storm of thunder now crunched.
Lightning sparked on deep sea,
Mist shrouding all but nearby,
Veiling dunes and valley beyond.
Exhilarating breath and sea froth broke,
As a vehicle to steer me free.
Shattering echoes of thunder’s beat
Curled round the bay,
Urging hail’s harassment onward,
Flicking jagged edges of light,
As I surfed and rode a thrilling retreat…
Pete Ray
27th July 2000: & the nearby lifeguards merely watched as my father and two daughters became drenched, huddled near Mawgan Porth's dunes.
My son Jamie and I had walked down to the sea and surfed in the storm, quite unbelievably.
We guessed that the others had returned to the caravan.
They hadn’t.
An elderly lady, a resident on her wooden board, seen each year at Mawgan Porth, wearing her 1950s bathing costume, was also surfing…
Jamie and I finally returned to the caravan site and bathed in the outdoor swimming pool, which was steaming with heat… Quite amazing.
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