The sky was like a character in Joseph Heller’s classic novel “Catch 22”. It seemed to know the difference between the makings of a pretty day and one that was just plain ugly but was trapped in the middle. A front had floated across the coast during the night and at daybreak, things looked very iffy.
As I trudged westward along the dune line (a reminder that the Bogue Banks is pretty much situated East-West) the sky began to brighten and it became rather obvious that the clouds were all merging into one huge, magnificent cloud that was teasing the rooftops of the oceanfront “cottages.”
A platoon of pickup trucks with over-sized tires and front bumpers fitted with cylinders loaded with huge salt water fishing rigs, came roaring up the beach; a half dozen anglers jumped out and staked their claim on the beach by pounding their rod holders into the sand.
The big cloud began to darken to an ominous shade of indigo and I felt the first sprinkles of rain. I grabbed one of the giant sized freezer bags out of my bag and zipped up my camera and lens and headed back to my truck. By the time I was back on the beach road home, the downpour came. The day had indeed turned ugly. Thanks for the look. See you next time. .