The wind howls outside the window. It does not screech, just howls. Light rain. Rocking chairs rock in the gale.
I like being on an island, surrounded by water, surrounded by weather. It should not flood where we are tonight but the hotel owner said there is a high ridge nearby. "If you hear somebody knockin' on the door in the middle of the night it will be time to move the car."
We'll head down to Hatteras village tomorrow.