October 14, 2024

Dear all,

This will be a brief newsletter, after two busy weeks having to pay attention to both hurricanes Helene and Milton as they (mercifully) passed us by and continued up through the Gulf of Mexico, missing us by a hundred and fifty miles. You all probably know what happened north of us – the devastation caused by high winds, typhoons, hard rain and flooding rivers. Our friends up in Asheville have borne the brunt of Helene, and those near Sarasota, Florida, of Milton, and many are without water, electricity, food, mail and even roofs over their heads. It has been a tough season.

Here, we waited for a day while the hurricane lingered near the Yucatan peninsula, gathering strength; the following day, we had wind and hard rain in sudden downpours and some flooding near the beaches from a storm surge - but nothing life-threatening. I managed to keep on working on the last edits of my mystery novel, with Chopin playing loud to drown the sound of the wind, and all the shutters closed tight.

We were lucky – and thankful. A bonus was that the avocados crashed down from our neighbors’ tree like hand grenades, and we went out afterwards to pick them out of soaked grass. It’s a memory I have from hurricane Georges, in 1998: avocados rolling in the gutters, lobsters thrown up on the beach. A feast amid chaos.

Life in Key West is often made up of these strange contrasts, as is our weather. After 30 years here, I am almost used to it – but can still feel that frisson of foreboding when the wind begins to intensify and rain lashes our old wooden house. My husband is a dab hand with a generator and a chain-saw and even gets up on the roof to check for where leaks may appear; when I was younger, I didn’t look for these talents in a mate, but now value them thoroughly – and when the wind roars at night, I’m incredibly glad of a hand to hold in the dark.

Go well, stay dry, be safe!

Affectionately, Ros