Farther left, out of this shot, a Coast Guard ship protects the president, who’s here for the weekend.
Another autumn on the ocean for Les UDs. We’ll be here for awhile.
Blogging continues.
… goes on in front of our Rehoboth Beach balcony. We love to watch it.
Everyone does. It draws crowds.
… something you never see. Storm must have “stirred them up.” One was still alive, and I asked my sister to pick it up and put it in the surf. She declined, which turned out to be very smart. They’re vicious.
… the sun came out – briefly – and we all ran down to the beach to celebrate.
Being on the tail end of a hurricane turns out to be a real tonic for ol’ UD, who must share this odd trait with others, because she’s far from alone beside the raging ocean. The restaurants – on a dreary sodden Monday night – were packed; we had to wait at the bar for a table, but that was fine cuz the bartender wanted to know the details of the Rapoport/Ocean City legal case, so actually we had to tear ourselves away from him.
Obviously there’s a drama to it all – the shimmying trees, the wind/waves roar, the watery watery world – and everyone’s pleasantly stirred. The inner/outer contrast is a thing too – our zennish hotel has hearths aplenty, and perfumes from their spa drift along the air; and in case you need more tranquillizing, they’ve just this year inserted a glowing bar into the glowing lobby.
My drink, however, is black, fruit-flavored, tea; and I stare at a fireplace and watch my tea’s smoke curl up while I listen to an audiobook version of AVENTURES D’ALICE AU PAYS DES MERVEILLES (one must continue to set oneself challenges, even into one’s dotage) through my earbuds.
Off to two days at the soggy beach. Blogging continues.
Emerging from the cool mist: A bird, a kayaker, and a boardwalk stroller.
A little corner of corn, along with a mulberry tree full of red winged blackbirds.
… signaled, this morning, the imminent appearance of the Bidens, who have a place down the block.
