Funsters take you where you want to go


The Funsters performed at Irish Eyes in Lewes. These musicians create a magic that only those who know each other so well can do. They mesmerized the audience with sounds of the Doors, Motown, the Beatles, Neil Diamond and so many others. They took us back in time. They brought alive buried dreams and forgotten memories, those of young adulthood before life took us in another direction.

Warning cries of sailors lost

Nor’easter October 2013

I looked out the window and saw brightness not visible for seven days. Green and gold tones in the low-lying salt marsh lightened.
The cloud swirl began to dissipate. The storm slowly passed.

I could leave behind the rain boots, rain jacket and hat as I descended the stairs that day.

The Nor’easter had arrived along a stream of air, giving not a second thought to the havoc it would cause. Weather forecasters had misjudged its visit.

Plans had been made for sunnier days. So quickly had people forgotten that summer already had passed and winter was on its way.

Seventy-five brand new sunfish sailboats lined Lewes Beach. With their matching red-white-and-blue sails and new rigging, they stood at attention, ready to conquer the waters of the Delaware Bay. The sailors were all smiles, anticipating a heated race, camaraderie, and the joy of wind in their faces.

But that old Nor’easter did what Nor’easters do best,
howled and crashed and roared, plummeted rain, flooded streets,
sent all into hiding for six long days and deafening nights.

It reminded us all of its power,
Of so many unlucky sailors of centuries past,
Of tall sailing ships crushed by wind and waves,
Of men drowned and fortunes lost.

“Dare you come out into the waters this day?” the Nor’easter taunted eager sunfish sailors standing on the shore.

“Stay safe. Don’t go,” warned the ghosts of the Delaware Bay. “Never again sail a Nor’easter.”

The crashing waves carried the ghost voices as they cast an old rotted timber upon the shore.

“Stay safe. Don’t go.”

The sunfish sailors stood staring at the angry waves of the Delaware Bay.
I stood, too, looking upon the rotted timber, and conjured mournful cries of sailors lost.
How fickle Mother Nature, so.
© Susan L. Towers

Sunset After a Storm

sunset after a storm

I know I should not say that the water I live near is any more spiritual than any other water, or that the place I live has any more power than any other geographic area. People travel thousands of miles to visit Sedona, and wait upon a mountain top for the sun to set.

The California and Oregon coasts along the Pacific are known around the world for their beauty and majesty. The Great Barrier Reef of Australia is a World Heritage-listed park. And, the Grand Canyon, well, anyone who has hiked its walls knows of its spiritual power.

But, I have found, without a doubt, an indescribable power from the skies above Lewes on the Delaware Bay. Years ago I saw some paintings by local artist Abraxus. It was when I had first arrived to this spot in the Mid-Atlantic. I thought this young artist quite creative with his unusual and striking colors. That was until I experienced the awe-inspiring colors in the skies above this bay where the Delaware River spreads as an estuary at the Atlantic Ocean.

Just as life blooms in these tidal marshes, energy explodes in the air above. I am in awe when the sky is charged with lightening, when the voluminous clouds roll through with a mighty wind, when the sun rises and when the sun sets. The colors are indescribable for me. I search my Thesaurus in vain, wish that I had paid more attention when studying the Romantic writers, and I promise myself to read classic literature again.

It has been hot and humid for days, a situation favored by beachgoers, water skiers and swimmers, but not so by those of us who head back and forth to the office. The weather forecast had warned of storms for days, none of which arrived.   However, this Sunday afternoon, when most people were ready to go home, the flood warnings rang on all of our smart phones and the blackened skies let go with their entire pent up load. Maybe two hours later, the tired sun began its descent, painting that indescribable color across the sky. The lightened clouds rose and became a silky ceiling as they headed for their next destination.