The light flees as the storm rolls across from the mainland. Thick cloud cover hides star and moon and all but a few faint rays of the setting sun. The kids leave the shoreline for the jetty, watching entranced as a woman throws in her cast net and then drags it in full of an abundance of small silver fish.
The lights send shimmering ribbons of reflection across Pumicestone Passage and boats drive in, bringing in their haul (or not) or just stopping to pick up their fish and chips from the cafe. A much more sure-thing for a meal of fish. The light is soft, muted, the temperature gentle. The clouds bulge darker. Thunder rumbles, lightning crashes. A welcome storm. Just as we finally succeed in rounding up the children and bundling them into the car, the sky opens and the downpour begins.
We drive home in night and rain.
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