By Kirk Ross
Last night I watched a thunderstorm move across Pleasure Island.
My companion, skilled in the art of cloud watching thanks to a recent class at the university and an old book by Louis Rubin Sr., pointed out some mammatus clouds and the swirls in the turbulent sky above.
We moved from the sound-side steps to the oceanside balcony as it passed over and saw the jumble of wind patterns play with the waters of the great Atlantic while lightning jabbed from storm to sea.
When we left Chapel Hill, the thermometer was headed for triple digits. After three days of that, the experience of feeling the wind and the rain and the temperature drop 20 degrees was restorative.
This morning the doughnuts were still warm after the fetching, and I couldn’t believe how good they made the coffee taste.
The only thing on the agenda for the afternoon is a local shrimp po’ boy and getting in a swim.
Tonight the first full moon of summer rises somewhere out on the blue-green horizon, and we’re counting on it to be wondrous enough to make small any worry, if only for a little while.
Please pardon this departure from the usual wonkery and politics of this space. I’ve had enough for the past month, maybe enough for a lifetime. And if you didn’t get your fill last week, when every pundit on earth tried to prove themselves both a constitutional scholar and a health-policy expert, well then you’ve got a problem and maybe ought to see somebody about it.
There’s still that last frenzied week or so of the legislature to ponder. But they’re in exit mode in Raleigh, so blessed relief is almost upon us.
After that there’s a pause in the action. I suggest you take full advantage. I can’t imagine a more frenzied fall ahead, so it might be a good idea to wring every last bit you can out of this summer.
The big election coming up seems to get bigger every day. And compared to when posturing over it began – I think it was the first Wednesday in November of 2008 – like any big storm it might appear as though it’s just around the corner even though it’s a ways away. Most other countries think we’re crazy to have an election season that runs more than a couple of months, and they’re probably right.
Really. This is the summery-est week of summer, so let’s give the red and blue pom-poms a little rest, eh? There’ll be plenty of time to hang on every poll and swing of sentiment, but in the name of sanity for at least a week or so, can we just debate what tomato goes better on a BLT?
I like our town in the summer. The K-12 system and the university are usually pretty close in sync, and I’ve heard it estimated that a fifth of us are on vacation at any one time during the seven-week stretch between late June and when the university cranks up in August.
The extra breathing room is noticeable, especially downtown, and the pace a little less frenetic.
If you’re new here or in job/school lockdown for the rest of the year, it’s time to explore a little. I could list a dozen or so short hops around these parts, but there’s plenty of that available in the local literature, this paper being full of suggestions on a regular basis.
While I prefer the coast when the crowds are gone, this lark to a beach full of so many committed lollygaggers, layabouts and slow-strolling couples was instructive.
No matter what you decide to do with your summer, please take time for the most important activity of them all: doing nothing.
This old world is wound up tight. Do what you can to unwind it.