There’s something magical about being in the rain. There’s something even more magical about being in the rain by the ocean.
I was in Nice, France taking my time walking along the stormy Promenade des Anglais. Out of the three cities we went to in France- Paris, Nice and Arles- Nice was my favorite.
And out of 18 days worth of memories, the one that fights the hardest to be my favorite is the hour or two that I spent huddling under a red umbrella, walking along the promenade and taking a new picture every couple of seconds.
You weren’t there to see it. A lot of my group didn’t see it either. They didn’t see the way the blues separated in the ocean, how the clouds bunched up into angry grays and spit down on everyone or how everything just looked so much more alive.
I felt at peace.
I felt at peace as my flip flops kept sliding on the pavement. I forgot all about my almost splits leaving the hotel and the guy who rushed forward to help me up. The wet flee market with all of my friends, the place where I was actually supposed to be, it didn’t matter.
What mattered was the two joggers fighting the rain along with me. What mattered was the couple huddled under there own orange umbrella. And then there was the couple that looked out at the ocean like they could take it on.
There’s not a lot that’s more beautiful than looking at the ocean during a storm.
One of my favorite moments on the trip was a right time, right place occurrence. It was something you couldn’t plan and don’t know to wish for.
The thing about me is I love taking pictures of clouds, I love the ocean and I love the color blue. So, knowing these things, you might see how beautiful it was to me.
This was the day that I found a mixing of peace and rain and ocean.
It was beautiful.