I live two blocks from Fort Lauderdale Beach, just off A1A, and yet I had not actually seen the beach since Sandy waved a brief hello on her destructive travel north. Since Thursday night, I have been more concerned with when my power would come back on and how best to navigate a normally 20-minute work commute that today extended to 55 minutes. So this morning, I grabbed one of my dogs and a camera and took a walk to water’s edge at high tide.
Mountains of sand don’t keep high tide from breaching the lowly sea wall.
No beach. Just a flooded A1A.
My son and his friends swam at this beach a week ago. Look to the far left, in the middle of the roiling water. That used to be the beach.
My steps to the beach.
Look closely. Look again. Yep, that’s right. Only the handle bars of someone’s locked up bike peek out of the sand.
The sand and surf might lap at your home, but you might as well mow what’s left of your ocean-front lawn.
At this minute, I am watching the news unfold about the havoc this alpha gal is wreaking up north. My continuing inconvenient commute to work pales in comparison. And it begs the question, just how is it that we are embracing a glorious Fall cold front while the mid Atlantic and northeast are battling a tropical hurricane?
Good luck and safe wishes to my DC, coastal Delaware and NJ, and NYC friends. You are experiencing more of a hurricane’s wrath than I ever have.