Oceans For Emotions: It rains on the just and the unjust

By Elaine Wheat
April 20, 2012 at midnight
Updated April 19, 2012 at 11:20 p.m.

Elaine Wheat

Elaine Wheat

..."And there shall be a place of refuge from the storm and rain."

- Isaiah 4:6

My silly little weather band kept driving me crazy with its beeping warnings, so I put it in my tackle box where I couldn't hear it as I packed up the rest of my stuff, including my rain poncho, and went on down to Magnolia Beach to fish like I had planned all week.

I love fishing in the rain. No one else is out there clogging up the beach, and I could fish anywhere by the "Crabbing Bridge" that I wanted.

The first soft drops of rain hit the beach side about the same time I did, and I welcomed them playing a staccato rhythm that I could sing out loud to at the top of my voice. With a voice like mine, "Singing in in the Rain" requires a poncho, rain and an empty stretch of beach.

The rain and I continued, but I did have to stop and move my chair back away from the tide line from time to time because the rain kept coming and the drops were not as fun as they once were. I couldn't even hear myself singing, which is usually a blessing. It was then that I heard my weather band beeping its little head off. Just as I got it up to my ear, it's pleading voice said, "This is a severe thunder storm warning. All people who are outdoors in the listening area should take shelter in a sturdy building on the lowest floor and stay there until this warning is over."

I expected it to say, "This means you, Elaine."

I will admit that I am old, but I'm not an old fool. I threw my stuff into the car while clutching my wise, important weather band to my chest and took off to seek shelter.

It was then that I realized something I had known all my life - there are no brick shelters on the beach front except for the two beach bathrooms.

I am not a wonderful, famous person. Sometimes, I am not even a good person. But no one should have to die in a blown down brick beach bathroom. They probably wouldn't find me among the other trash until summer.

My loving weather band reminded me to sit on the floor and cover my head. Obviously the talking tape had never seen a beach bathroom floor even on a good day, much less a stormy one.

The weather finally improved, and I decided it was a good time to head home.

Dear Lord, I wrote you a poem today God: The rain is raining all around, It falls in field and tree; It rains on just and unjust men and half on me.



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