Editor’s note: This column is part 2 of 2

“Let the wind carry you home
Blackbird, fly away
May you never be broken again …”
— “Blackbird,” Alter Bridge

A couple of nights before Dorinda came home for hospice care, a rainbow appeared outside her hospital window — a moment I’ve written about before, and one I have carried with me ever since.

I lost my wife two weeks later.

So when another rainbow appeared — briefly — after a January storm at the Gulf State Pier, it stopped me. As I wrote in last week’s column about seeing a “D” in the sky, clouds matter, too.

The boardwalk leading to the Gulf State Pier just after the storm Jan. 3.

Photo provided courtesy of Wayne Smith

Those clouds — including the storm, the rainbow, and the beach days that followed — formed Part 2 of this column.

Let’s start with the storm.

That first Saturday of the new year, I drove to the pier even though the morning was dark and stormy. As soon as I parked, buckets of rain started falling. I waited in my car for a few minutes until it eased, then made my way onto the pier stretching out over the Gulf. It was around 6:30 a.m.

I waited.

I took dozens of photos. An hour later, the sun finally broke through the clouds. By then, I wasn’t alone. A few others had arrived looking for the sunrise. Some were fishing. There were birds overhead and on the pier. And then, for just a moment, a rainbow. Just as quickly as I noticed it, the rainbow faded away.

But it paid to wait out the storm that morning.

A bird perches along the Gulf State Pier as the sun begins to rise after the storm.

Photo provided courtesy of Wayne Smith

A couple of evenings later, I was back at Gulf State Park again — this time for sunset. The clouds and sky didn’t disappoint, whether framing two palm trees at the end of another boardwalk, the dunes, or the Gulf's rolling waves. I know Dorinda would have smiled at those images.

The next day, a Gulf Shores beach welcomed me with something different altogether — 74 degrees, clear skies, no clouds.

Several others were there, too, basking in the rays alongside me. It was a good day in the sun. An emotional one, too. I know it’s what Dorinda would have wanted to do this January afternoon. I listened to the waves as they splashed into the shore. I read some, which she no doubt would have done. I sat.

A nap would have been ideal — something my Bear would have absolutely enjoyed. I didn’t sleep this time. There was too much on my mind.

A brief rainbow appears over the Gulf following the morning storm.

Photo provided courtesy of Wayne Smith

And of course, I took more pictures. It’s a new favorite pastime of mine. Later, looking back through the photos, I discovered I had caught a bird frozen mid-flight against the sun in one of them.

You know, I’ve noticed the beach always seems to provide you with a different photographic canvas to work with, colors added to the palette.

You never know what you’re going to get.

Looking ahead to 2026, I know the difficult days – the storms – will remain. But I look forward to the times when the clouds lift, or when they make for another spectacular sunset.

Sunset along the Gulf shoreline at Gulf State Park a few evenings later.

Photo provided courtesy of Wayne Smith

Excelsior, I remind myself - keep looking up.

I look forward to spending some sunny days at the beach with our children and grandchildren, maybe with others. Or even alone, like I did the morning of Jan. 3, sticking around to see what the day would bring.

It paid to wait.

Wayne Smith has worked as a writer and editor at newspapers across Alabama, Florida and South Carolina. His weekly column focuses on navigating Gulf Shores alone after losing his wife to cancer, and the places he discovers and the people he meets.

Read his previous column titled "Looking up as the New Year arrives".

The author with his wife, Dorinda, at a Gulf Shores beach in August 2024.

Photo provided courtesy of Wayne Smith