After nine hours in the car I arrived in New Smyrna Beach, Florida. Each moment of the drive was a celebration, crystalline memory material. Overcast skies meant blessed coolness rather than blistering heat.
I had a choice of three routes and decided on the one less travelled. To my delight, what followed were 478 miles of deserted roads mostly lined by forest. I kept the top up against the threatening sky. Only once did it rain.
The column of water was visible a half mile ahead, perfectly framing Hwy 19. I slowed, trepidatious, before passing through the visible wall. For five minutes the wind and rain rocked my Cabrio, then just as abruptly, were gone.
Danielle is out there, churning the waters. The first picture is the surf around 7:00 p.m. Sunday. Courtesy of Hurricane Danielle.
Sets of waves roll in, eager to break then race to catch the one before it. Yesterday I stood in the surf and watched, mesmerized by the constant churning of as many as ten curls in a line, breaking a hundred and more yards out. I hear the riptide is gnarly.
Saturday was the fifth anniversary of Katrina. No hurricanes on my forecast.
Past that and before the surf is a 20 - 30 foot green zone. Why is it green? Does anybody know?