The hurricane season officially ended on Nov. 30, but someone forgot to tell the weather gods. The first 48 hours of December have been nonstop howling gale force winds. It's still in the 70's Farenheit but the locals are freezing in the wind chill. No rain though so we still take our daily walkabout, leaning into it like slow-motion slalom racers.
Awnings and wires are down, the helicopters are tied to the tarmac, and the pounding surf offers free saltwater showers to cars and beachcombers that stray too close.
Our local snorkeling cove is weed-strewn and underwater visibility is about 2 feet in the storm. But under just 6 inches of water all is normal and a two-tone octopus slides by, oblivious.
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