Friday, January 18, 2008

Not Much was Moving

Yesterday was one of those days that is hard to explain to anyone who hasn't been here in the winter. It started out raw and cold, wind blowing, rain beating sideways. Half way through the morning I stuck my head out the back door of the shop and low and behold - spring had sprung. The rain was still beating sideways. When I left Village Craftsmen a little after 5PM I went to the Variety Store to pick up a few things for dinner. You could hear the ocean roaring and carrying on like it was as near as the Post Office. The rain was still beating sideways. The vendors that had come to make deliveries for the weekend couldn't get off the island. Sysco, Budweiser and others had to spend the night, I hear. When I went to let Willie out about 9PM the fog was swirling around the yard but the rain had finally stopped. As I crawled in bed about 11, I could still hear the ocean's roar in the distance . This wild place somehow wraps itself around me and quiets me to sleep.

Our latest Ocracoke Newsletter is inspired by an April, 1942 article about the island in The State magazine. You can read it here.

1 comment:

  1. Anonymous10:25 AM

    So, when the Sysco and Budweiser drivers (or any other travelers for that matter) find themselves marooned on the island for an unexpected overnighter, how do they typically cope? I know signs in the big parking lot near the museum indicate no overnighting there. Do folks just park and sleep in their cars in the ferry lanes? I'd imagine hotel rooms would be scarce during peak season. Or is there any community-based protocol in place to help folks find shelter in a pinch, on any given night (i.e., could the sheriff's office direct folks to somewhere that's available to handle such situations)?