. . .

All new houses built within the last decade on the Outer Banks look like this:


And because hurricanes tend to blow in every few years and destroy older homes, more and more houses on the Outer Banks look like this--though often built in spearmint green, pink, pineapple, as if the OBX is a slightly more northerly outpost of Miami beach.

Most houses on the OBX when I was a kid looked really differently than this. The grand homes had high sloped dark green roof lines and were covered in dark grey weathered shingles with white trim around windows and doors. Usually they had wrap-around deeply shaded porches and every window was covered by a green shutter--propped open on a green stick when weather was fair. The lesser homes, were lowslung modern concrete block houses with profiles so short that the dunes protected them from the worst winds of incoming storms. All houses built to be cool before air conditioning took off. Houses built to blend into a island of sand and sea oats. Houses built by people who knew, unless the weather was bad, you wouldn't be spending much time in them anyway, and so, built sturdy modest getaways for families to nestle into for a stolen week or two each summer.

A few still exist, but they're a dying breed. . .

There was sun. I swear.

Walk on the Beach

On the yearly family vacation at the Outer Banks. We usually stay in the quiet still of the Southern end of Hatteras Island, but Hurricane Irene damaged all of the routes in in ways that we hope aren't permanent or crippling.

So, this year, we headed north to Duck. Duck is not our kind of town--more expensive, while being really packed in tightly. None of us quite understand why it's considered so fancy except for the exorbitant pricing. Yesterday, I saw a 4 oz. bag of pistachios for $8.99. One red pepper at the big grocery store? $2.99. Silly.

But it's still the Outer Banks. It's still the Atlantic. It's still fresh seafood and time with the family. So, we're gritting our teeth and having a lovely time.

The first day was overcast and a little drizzly, but if it's not outright pouring, there's no excuse to stay inside during vacation. So, Ma, Pa, and I headed out to the beach for a long walk to the pier.


Pelicans are out in full force travelling south in big groups. A big Noreaster was blowing on our first full day and the pelicans were mostly gliding.

Even the dunes want to extract a price from you in Duck. He he he.
Seriously, though, unexploded ordinance? Terrifying. We stayed on the beach. I'm hoping, though, that this is the length to which wildlife folks are now going to protect birds' and turtles' nests--scary signs to keep you out of breeding grounds.

The Core of Army Engineers builds piers that look an awful lot more stable than the piers on the rest of the island. So straight and solid.

Lots of cool stuff blown up on the beach by successive storms. . .

Knock Out Sunset

Two days ago. . . the most lovely sunset.

Ocracoke

It's our last day at the beach, then begins the three day drive home--which is also fun. . . but it's no beach.

The first week of storms played havoc with the island and as a result, we have seen things this trip that we have not seen before. Our beach was a mere 15 feet wide beyond the dunes. At high tide, which we never saw this past week, the waves made it all the way up to the base of the dunes (no beach). There are actual shells on the Avon beach instead of just pieces. The Ocracoke ferry was shut down at the beginning of the week after a ferry ran aground on a sand bar--and reopening only after serious work done by a dredger that was still in operation when we went out to the island on Wednesday.

Kind of cool, but also all reminders of how fragile these islands are.



Famous for their apple ugly, I prefer regular old donuts at the Orange Blossom.


My parents, since I was pretty tiny, planned lots of trips that required ferry trips--at the Outer Banks, in Wisconsin, in Canada and Maine. So many boats that eventually the Stewart family saying was born: It's not a vacation without a ferry ride. It's a joke (but I nevertheless do feel a little robbed if a vacation ends and I have not ridden a ferry).




Kite shop porch extravaganza.


Dad emerges form the dunes.

Ocracoke beaches are different than Hatteras Island beaches. The sand is whiter. The beaches are deep and flat. The water is gentle and shallow--though filled with loads of blue crabs that don't seem particularly spooked by people. There are usually loads of shells (though not the elusive Scotch Bonnet, much to my mother's chagrin). They're lovely. I prefer the Hatteras beaches, but it's nice to take a short ferry ride to a totally different place for a day.


I found a sand dollar!





Dredge.

Not a Curlew

Took a walk to the pier two days ago and I saw a bird I've never seen on the Outer Banks before. I only noticed him when a whole flock of birds flew up shore and one of them was a pretty cinnamon color instead of the usual grey, black and white.

A passerby--who was also taking pictures--told me he was a Curlew. . . but I found a Sibley's on Ocracoke, looked him up and am confident that this birdie is, in fact, a Marbled Godwit. He was very handsome.


Correct me if I'm wrong, Ornithologists! (I'm looking at you, Alex)

Rain rain go away. . .

Gee whitakers. . . I'm trying to keep a positive outlook. I'm not at work. I'm with family and relaxing. But I want to swim and go for crazy long walks and spend tons of time outside in the sun. I thought my hair might bleach out a little. I thought I might get a little tan.

But the rain just won't quit.

I want a whole day of hot and sun, durn it!

Until then, here are the pics that I could eke out yesterday and today. . .



Please somebody, tell me what this is. If no one has an answer, I'm going to assume this is an underwater mailbox that was swept to shore.


Got a short respite from the rain. Took a walk, then sat on the beach for a while and read. This little green hoppy frog jumped right on to my foot. A huge beach, almost no one on it, and this little Einstein manages to jump on a person. He's lucky I wasn't a seagull.