|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
June 6, Sunday - The Birds! There is one outcast duckling here, from the first batch, that Pete calls Peeper. His mother abandoned him about a week ago, and we don't blame her... he PEEPS All. The. Time. You wouldn't think a duckling could wake people out of a sound sleep at three in the morning, would you? This little guy is 90% lungs. PEEP PEEP PEEP PEEP all the time, and he's taken up residence under our RV. *Sigh*. How long before ducklings start saying "quack" instead of "peep"? In seeking his identity, he's tried following the big ducks around, but they mostly beat up on him, which of course initiates a whole new round of PEEPing. He tried hanging out with the seagulls, but they fly and he doesn't, so the association is temporary. He even tried following the geese around. We've encountered several other interesting birds here. In the pond beside the Hatteras lighthouse, we watched a black bird with a long beak dive under the water and stay under for a long time. Haven't figured out what that one was. The pelicans are really cool - they cruise along in groups of about four, skimming just above the water, single-file. Then when they're ready to fish, they split up, fly way up, fold up their wings and dive fast. They make a huge splash that you can see even if they're way off shore. I come across a lot of ospreys when I'm out riding. They build an enormous nest at the top of a tall, dead tree, and then one bird guards while the other bird looks for food. The guard bird kicks up a huge fuss when we ride too close (meaning, anywhere they can see us), and if they've got eggs or osp-lings to protect, they'll even dive at us. They have a strange, un-birdlike call that is more of a prehistoric, predatory screech than birdsong. Pete and I were walking back from somewhere one night, and we heard some eerie, strange noises, which I thought sounded like angry cats or peacocks. Sure enough, driving home a couple days ago, we saw two peacocks casually crossing Highway 12.
July 4, Sunday We slept in a bit late, since we played for the dance last night here at Camp Hatteras, which went very well. We started the day by discovering that some guys had set up camp in our yard, somewhere after 2:30 AM. The morning's entertainment was watching the four of them try to set up a canopy in Hatteras winds! They were still at it when we got home in the afternoon. They eventually gave up and went for a more architecturally stable design. We were scheduled to play at the marina at sunset, and this time it was our turn to be wind-abused. The wind comes right off the sound and we have to lash down everything. Music stands turn into sails, mikes pick up the blustering noises, and there aren't enough clothespins in the world to keep the music still. Despite the frustrations and things not going exactly as I would have liked, we managed to put on a good show for a happy and receptive audience, and the sun played it's role in the production beautifully. Pete would say it was the star of the show.... Next stop - Avon, for their First Ever fireworks show! We packed up in a screaming rush! It takes half an hour to get to Avon, fireworks were scheduled to start at 9:00, and our show ended at 8:30. We threw everything in, piled into the car and blasted out of there, with Pete driving. I had a bag at my feet, which was crowding me a little and the whole way it kept tipping into my leg, and I kept fidgiting to get more foot room. Finally I reached down to move the stupid bag handle out of the way so it would stop bumping me. Problem: When I grabbed it, it was squishy like a gummy-worm. PETE. STOP THE CAR. I HAVE TO GET OUT RIGHT NOW. Which I did, even before the car had stopped moving. Now, Pete's thinking, as would anyone who knows me well, "how BIG is this spider?" But, my rapid departure has caused the dome light to come on, and Pete now sees that our problem is a small but agitated SNAKE. So, he follows my lead and also tries to vacate the car before it has stopped rolling. So, he gets the flashers on, the car in park, and the doors locked. I spend a bit of time hyperventilating and swearing. And then we decide to leave the car where it is, walk to our destination, and return with reinforcements. And sticks. And tear gas. And flame throwers. We arrived at Patty's house in the middle of the fireworks show, and it seemed the best plan was to wait until the end to request assistance. The show was only scheduled to last 25 minutes anyway. And the show was great - for the first... hour... and a half.... It's pretty sad when a fireworks display runs so long that people go from ooohs and ahhs to, "please, make it stop!" It was a really pretty show, but I'm willing to bet that every toilet in Avon flushed simultaneously at 10:45 that night. Anyway, after the show, and after some wine, we explained to Patty and company what was afoot. And five people in two cars, armed with a spotlight, a bucket, and various long-handled garden tools (Patty didn't have a flame-thrower in the garage) headed back to Pete's car. We discovered the snake on the back window, having found its way through all our PA gear, now crawling across my fiddle case. I held the spotlight, Pete opened the hatchback and convinced the worm to crawl onto the outside of the car. Quickly shut the hatch, got it off the car roof, and killed it on the pavement. A closer inspection showed that the critter I'd grabbed around the neck was a Water Moccasin. Our best theory on the aquisition of this passenger is that it got onto a piece of equipment while we were rushing to pack the car at the marina. It looked enough like a cable or a bungee chord that it could have blended right in.
August 18/19, Wednesday/Thursday After it calmed a bit, we got in the car and headed south toward home. The lightning was still strobing all around us, and we were driving right into it! Picture windshield wipers through a strobe light - and the effect through the trees speeding by. As we approached the Oregon Inlet bridge and the lighthouse (see the photo near the top of the page), it looked as though the bridge were being struck over and over. A lightning bolt would form and then stay visible for several seconds! Pete decided this was not a good time to cross the bridge, so we turned around and returned to Nags Head. We went in search for a safe place to watch the lightning from the car, and as we drove down the beach road in Nags Head our eyes followed flashing lights and fire trucks to a building that had been struck by lightning and was burning. We'll go back in daylight and see what's left. We made another run for the bridge, and made it home this time, getting in around 4:AM. The storm hadn't reached the campground, and it never did rain here. The lightning caught up with us at 4:30 and I watched it until about 5:30 when I fell asleep. What a show! I wish I could have watched the whole thing from one of the lighthouses.
August 29, Sunday - DENNIS
August 31, Tuesday
September 5, Sunday
September 7, Tuesday The apartment is over Outer Beaches Realty, and we're working for them part-time. So far, we're helping clean the rental cottages -- Dennis left many of them with water and wind damage. And we're taking photos of the cottages for their 2000 brochure. I love the names that people give their beach houses. Of course, there's the occasional "Beach House #42", and a lot of "Osprey's Landing"-style names, but lots of the owners have a great creative sense of pun or cleverness. There's the "Tern Inn" just up the street, not far from the "Sandcastle". Here are a few of my favorite "Sea Shelter" names:
A Shore Thing
September 9, Thursday Well, I'm back... it's been an interesting day. Kylara's fine and happy, and all people and critters at the stables seem to have weathered the storm. The road to Buxton is another matter. As you drive south from Avon, there's a "road closed" sign straight ahead where the road has been, and the new road curves off to the right. The old road peeks out from as much as ten feet of sand. Sand stretches all the way across the island now, and you can still see where the ocean cut through to the sound. Since there's only one school on the whole island, and it's in Buxton, for the past several days the National Guard has been playing school bus, conveying all the kids from the north part of the island across the breach. I'd been watching the sky all day for a little sunshine, so I could take more house photos. Finally, in the afternoon, I decided to drive up to Rodanthe, hoping the sun was shining there. I started at the northernmost cottage, called Captain Levene's, and I happened to arrive at the same time as the owner, so he showed me what photos he wanted taken. After a few minutes of getting chomped by mosquitos, he invited me in for a tour of the house. Built in 1929 by the owner's grandfather, this house has seen almost all of Hatteras Island's history, and survived countless hurricanes. Mr. Beck, who was born in the house in 1940, shared wonderful stories of growing up on Hatteras Island.
September 14, Tuesday
November 2, Tuesday |