As you can see from the photograph which I shot yesterday from the covered porch on the second floor of the main building, the apartment Tal and I are inhabiting is perched atop the yacht club's kitchen and eating porch. To me it looks a bit like some depictions I've seen of the cabin on Noah's Ark. Amusingly appropriate, given the weather. We've been out only twice today, having had breakfast between here and the waterway with a friend. The Causeway Cafe, warm enough inside to fog my glasses as I entered, is pure local color and my big bowl of cheese grits and shrimp hit a hungry spot that needed to be hit. Mostly, though, the day has been low key with both of us wading through our respective books.
Overnight yesterday's heavy rain moved up the coast, replaced by wind, gusting, relentless and bearing a soaking mist. So, along with luxurious hours of reading, we've also listened to the changing voice and location of the wind. In the early hours of the day the wind buffeted the apartment's northeast corner; now the sound is concentrated in the southeast, farther away from the living room. At times the sound has taken me to winter storms in childhood and the sad moan around the eaves of the house during the night at Brookgreen. Less charming and bordering on alarming, I've had the distinct impression that someone might actually be just outside revving a chain saw!
Since our arrival we've not even stepped foot on the beach.
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