Salt and Ozone

Waves crash against the rocky shore and the sky darkens. I stand on the edge of the pier -a safe distance above the roiling surf. The riotous wind pulls back the hood of my raincoat, but I do not care. A sea mist dampens my brow as I look to the gray horizon. The crash of thunder is muffled by the howling wind.

My companion looks to me, battered by both wind and sea spray, "We should go back before it gets bad."

I smile, relishing the smell of salt and ozone. The storm is far enough away, far enough to enjoy its chaos in peace. My anxious heart matches pace with the distant thunder and a smile creeps onto my lips. The fin of a gray porpoise peeks from above the waves.

"Just a few more minutes," I reply, taking a moment to clean the rain off my glasses with my shirt, "then we'll get lunch."

***

For centuries, water has been seen as a liminal place, especially the boundary between sea and land. Everything shifts and nothing is constant.

This vignette is loosely inspired by a moment I had on a pier in Whitby, Yorkshire on a stormy day, rather a propos for a city that inspired the likes of Bram Stoker and that was so important to British maritime history. However, I love sea and I love storms and rarely do I get to enjoy both at the same time and in relative safety.

Above all, I like writing these vignettes as it helps not only with my writer's block but I like revisiting these quieting experiences that I remember fondly and creating little pieces with them.

If you like this vignette, check out my previous one which had been awarded top story in July 2023.

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