The Calm Before . . . (or, Come in She Said . . .)

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On New Years Day last Friday, toward the end of the afternoon, it was fairly nice out on the north coast of Brittany where we happened to be, even if a brisk zero degrees C, so a walk to work off some of the massive quantity of calories consumed over the previous 24 hours seemed to be just the thing a good doctor might order one to do . . . and being an obedient soul in such cases, off I went for a stroll along the coastal path which follows the shore around the Bay of Morlaix. We hadn't gone very far when we noticed some interesting clouds way out on the water; it looked like the clouds had come right down to touch the ocean's surface, a bit of flirting was going on there between elements that often keep their distance from each other . . . but we didn't think much of it, and kept on walking . . .

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As we got around a bit of a headland, and turned the corner where more of the bay becomes visible, the rather violent looking cloud formation which had been out at sea was obviously moving rapidly, and had reached land already on the far side of the inlet of the Morlaix River. The wind had also shifted from the northwest, where it had pushed the storm ashore, to coming from the northeast, and was now blowing hard right in our faces . . .
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The sun was getting very low in the west, providing a golden glow to make the approaching storm look even more dramatic . . . we stood transfixed as the direction changed and it began to bear down upon us . . .
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The land on the far side of the bay disappeared under a wall of harsh looking cloud . . .
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It looked like all Hell was about to break loose right on top of us . . .
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The edge of the violence crept up to within a few hundred yards from our vantage point, but suddenly the wind shifted to come out of the north again, and the storm changed direction to head due south toward Morlaix. We got away with just a few raindrops and good glow in our cheeks from the blustery wind . . . It wasn't quite a hurricane, but a miniature version of one. And for a while there it had me worried, I had no idea what sort of violence might be hiding behind that misty curtain of rage . . .
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