These past few days, while waiting for Hurricane Milton to blow through Florida, I’ve taken advantage of the mild weather up here on the Georgia coast. The fresh air and exercise did wonders for my anxious mind as I wandered through forests, beaches, and salt pannes.

I’m well aware that it is a juxtaposition to seek solace in nature while a natural phenomenon was the very thing distressing me in the first place. Nevertheless, it helped and I’m ready to head back in the morning to tackle my cleanup and repairs.

In an effort to avoid the impending congestion caused by those fleeing Hurricane Milton, Westley and I left our beloved home in St. Petersburg early yesterday morning. We hit the road heading north well before Pinellas County issued an extensive evacuation order (everyone in Zones A, B, and C – which covers roughly half the county).

As the most densely populated county in the state this order affected close to half a million people. I knew from previous years that supplies, fuel, and even patience would be in short supply.

Our drive took a bit longer than expected but overall, it was remarkably uneventful. Five hours later we were safely ensconced in our temporary home in Brunswick, Georgia.

After Westley settled in I wandered downtown to stretch my legs and get some fresh air. Even though there is evidence of a brush with Hurricane Helene two weeks ago, it was remarkably calm and peaceful out. Just exactly what I needed.

I’m hoping for all of us that Milton passes quickly and with minimal damage… 💖

The difference in my yard between the beginning of September and October is stark. Where my plants were once full of colorful flowers and busy pollinators, there is nothing but brown, dead sticks.

The storm surge from Hurricane Helene at the end of last month killed off most, but not all, of my plants. I haven’t removed any yet, just in case they manage to pull through.

While securing my house this morning against the next incoming hurricane I noticed a red blob in the middle of my yard. One of my beleaguered hibiscus plants was blooming! I’m in awe of its resilience. Definitely a bright spot in a dreary time.

Here’s hoping Hurricane Milton isn’t as damaging as predicted… 🤞

Well, it’s been almost a week since Hurricane Helene flew by and swamped my area. As you can imagine, it’s been a rough few days.

While the devastation is widespread and heartbreaking, the way the community has rallied to support each other has been heartwarming. Thank goodness for all the helpers!

I’ve done my best to assist others while still caring for my waterlogged house; dragging out soaked furnishings, removing baseboards, running fans and a dehumidifier. (I can’t thank my friends and neighbors enough for all their help!)

In an effort to deter mold, I cleaned all my walls and floors with bleach and coated them with a mold inhibitor. As far as I can tell, I do not have major drywall damage but I’ll be scanning my house with a moisture meter soon to verify.

My pile of sea-soaked goods is large, but not as big as some of the other piles nearby. I know I have been very fortunate. My mattress may be on the floor but at least I have a safe house to sleep in. An upside to not having any furniture?Westley can’t lose his toys under the couch anymore. 😹

On a more serious note, so many folks around here (and elsewhere in Helene’s path) lost everything- their houses, clothing, cars, and even places of work. Many areas here still do not have power, running water, or even sewer service – which exacerbates their recovery efforts.

It’s going to be many months before things return to normal, and for some, it never will.

If you feel so inclined, please donate generously to your favorite disaster relief organization. 💖

*Update: I’m overwhelmed and grateful for the outpouring of love and your kind offers to help me. But I truly am okay and feel so very fortunate that all I lost in this terrible storm was some stuff. I moved here with nothing and I’ll be able to replace my furnishings in time. Please consider donating to someone less fortunate, there are so many of them. Love you all!

Hurricane Helene made her mark on Tampa Bay yesterday. While we were spared torrential rainfall and insane winds, the storm surge damage has changed the entire face of communities up and down my beloved Gulf Coast area for years to come.

For the first time in 35 years my neighborhood flooded, my house included. Westley and I evacuated around 7pm last night when the sea started coming up my driveway.

My friend Katie generously offered us shelter and a safe place to rest. Though to be honest, my worrying prevented much sleep.

8am this morning we ventured back home to deal with the aftermath. It was as I feared, my house was flooded. Water in my living room and bedroom was up to my ankles, though the high water mark was closer to 7”.

Thankfully my house hadn’t lost power (I had turned off the main breaker before leaving and so far, everything I’ve turned back on has worked, even my ancient air conditioner).

I admit there was a point this morning where I felt completely overwhelmed. But then, the most amazing things happened: my neighbor showed up with a shop vac, friends came over with gloves to pitch in, bringing fans, and even food.

Fourteen hours later, I’m tired, my back hurts, and I don’t have much furniture left but I have a clean and mostly dry home to sleep in tonight.

Thank you to everyone who helped me and for those who checked in on me (I’ll get back to you all tomorrow).

I know I am very fortunate (many others lost so much) and I’m overwhelmed, but this time with gratitude. 💖

A few years ago I salvaged some cactus cuttings from a trash bin and planted them in my front yard. I’m not certain of the species, could possibly be the native Triangle Cactus (Acanthocereus tetragonus). Regardless, the columnar cactuses* added a bit of sculptural elegance to my freshly de-sodded yard.

These low maintenance plants can’t compete with all my flowering ones during the day but at night, they are radiant! The short-lived, six-inch white blooms positively glow in the moonlight. I have yet to see any fruit, which leads me to believe nocturnal pollinators (hawk-moths and bats) haven’t visited.

Maybe they will in the future, in the meantime, I’ll continue enjoying the show.

*Yes, this is the proper botanical term, not the commonly used cacti (because it is improper to Latinize a Greek word). And yes, I can be a bit of a pedant…

Westley and I share a love of frozen water. Though we appreciate it in different ways. Heaven help us if our ice maker ever breaks! 😹

This past Saturday I went to see Jane Goodall speak at Tropicana Field (where the Tampa Bay Rays play). It was a suitable location since there were close to 8,000 of us in attendance.

Jane was in town for a weekend of environmental events centered around her local Roots and Shoots branch (a youth organization focused on conservation).

Jane and her life work with chimpanzees inspired me as a child so it wonderful to finally see her in person.

Her journey to the chimpanzees was difficult but Jane never gave up on her dream. And thank goodness for that, chimpanzees are better off because her love and admiration of them led to protections for them and their habitats.

At 90 years old, Jane had the crowd entranced as she shared her story. We laughed, we cried, and in the end we left feeling hopeful for the future. What an amazing woman!

No words needed.

Saturday morning, I ventured up to John Chestnut Sr. Park, lured by a bird walk. Unfortunately, I was discouraged by the large (and talkative) crowd. Thankfully, the cloud cover was perfect for exploring the trails so I wandered off on my own instead.

As I cut across a field I came across a feeding frenzy, grackles and blackbirds were feasting on small grubs that were wriggling in the grass. Adding proof to the claim that the early bird gets the worm. A squirrel and a male cardinal foraged nearby.

Up on the boardwalk, I was focused on all the fungi under me until a large flash movement in the trees caught my eye. I watched the Barred Owl for quite some time. Long enough to see it swivel its head at the sound of prey, launch from a branch, snatch a crayfish, fly up to a perch, and gulp it down.

A few steps later I noted another hunter gliding through the duff, a Florida Cottonmouth. A first for me, I appreciated that the boardwalk afforded me a great view (and some safety).

Raccoon prints in the mud let me know that the masked mammals had also been scouting for food recently.

Around the bend I encountered a small bird party. They noisily flitted around while I tried to capture them in photos. Pausing from my seemingly fruitless endeavor, I noted a White-tailed Deer chewing its cud while resting on a small hammock in the swamp.

After exiting the trail, I cut across a field and encountered more deer. They are obviously quite used to sharing their park with humans as they continued to browse without concern about my presence.

I was tempted to stay longer but opted to leave once the clouds started their ominous rumbling. The bird group may have spotted more species than I did but I don’t think they had nearly as magical a time.