... the route of Earl 2 ... no jestering ...

... it's really a quesion of degrees, this hurricane lottery ... the fine calibrations of latitude and longitude that combine to determine which territory, is affected by which part, of which cyclonic effect of which hurricane ... this time I experienced a hurricane growing to Category Two status as Earl's eye shaved the north-eastern side of the twin-island state of Antigua & Barbuda ...

... at regular intervals, in anticipation of weather to come, there are periods of such intense calm you can talk yourself into a delusory resentment ..."it ain't comin', all that work for nuttn"...

... followed, hopefully, by ... "I'm glad I hooked that shit up yo!" ...

... barometric adjustment is responsible, altering normal air-pressure ... the most commonly used descriptor is "eerie quiet"... this is the sound of stealth, an experience in itself ... debris flew, trees bent and rain didn't so much fall as drive through ... hurricane Earl's core elements put on a lusty show, allowing me a taste of what it's like near the centre of one of these things ...














... something I learned is that it's easier to do "before" or "after" photography than it is to do the more daring "during" ... my best effort, taken from a nearby villa, was as thrilling and wet as it looked ... "my heartbeat needed that jolt" I noted, still feeling the inside of my ribcage as I dried off my spattered camera lens ...

... crop devastation, islandwide power outtages and predictable gas shortages are first on any checklist of post-hurricane issues ... as is clean-up ... Antigua cleans up fast if you're wondering ...














... memories of being the first one outside afterwards, when the sensation of awe at nature is still fresh in the mind, allow me to flirt with post-apocalyptic fantasies from the vantage of an essentially intact world ... and somewhere down the line in the path of Earl ... be it island, U.S. or Canadian mainland ... people will be humbled and reminded of our planet's capricious power ...













... then of course there are the beaches ... my seashell source ... the caressing sea turns aggressor, shuffling sands and casting up flotsam and jetsam (a term that, since childhood, has alternately made me cringe or chuckle due to its ... cuteness?) ... preliminary beachcombing yielded a perfect pole to support a clothesline and a usable, if slightly weathered, snorkel ... there's lots more at the high-water line but mostly not dead long enough for collection ...













... as a strengthened hurricane Earl moves onward to its destiny, we in his wake cast an eye forward to watch copycats Fiona and Gaston make their westward trek ... it'll likely be an island feeling the first lash of these seasonal visitors before North American media-hype swings into high gear ...

... wherever hurricanes make landfall there'll be a price to pay ... closures and cancellations inevitably cost money ...

... we all grumbled about the prolonged blackout while tossing out the contents of our warm refrigerators and mopping up puddles ... but these inconveniences are given perspective when you consider the fate of the lineman who was electrocuted yesterday while working on service restoration ...

... hurricane storm is no joke ...

... seashells and the sick cyber-stalker ...

... seems sometimes ... only a hit of pure, unabashed nature can counteract malady and illness ... if any of you in blogland have been with me from the beginning of Ackeelover Chronicles or have poked through the archives, you'll have seen evidence of a seashell aesthetic ... every so often I'll throw some at you ...

... I do this in part to share beauty with readers, and in part to help inure us all to some of the ugliness out there ... to throw wonder at some insanity ... and there's plenty evidence of that too, everywhere you look ... even where you're not looking ...













... pretty much the first thing to notice here are the holes in each of these shells from my favourite beach-of-the-moment ... wonderful creations, previously home to many a happy clam ... but now they have holes in them, protective cuppings with bored breaches ... apertures which can freely admit grit, and irritants ...














... any breach of this "homeshell security" threatens the wellbeing of a self-respecting bivalve ... and I, ostensibly a higher life form, know exactly how that feels, for I too have an irritant that has breached my homeshell ...

... said irritant, in the form of a very disturbed individual wielding a computer like a weapon, is easily identifiable when you come across the madness online ... evidently, such people are as commonly occuring in nature as these shell holes ... when I mentioned the offending cyber-stalker recently to a friend, the response was an unimpressed, "welcome to the club mi bredda" ...












... these blanched sea-urchin shells have holes in them that are meant to be there ... when alive they are protected by long, sharp and painful spikes to keep away attackers ... the internet has no such protection or assurance ... so, until such time as a suitable cyber-pesticide is developed, or an exterminator is found, I am treating the breach with the beauty of the beach ... and whatever additional tools I can get my hands on ...

... see seashells ... safely ...

... duck for cover, here come da seashell lover ... another one of those beard-grooming neo-hipsters who softens unashamedly at the compound beauty to be seen throughout nature ... and he wants you to see what he sees in the photographs he's taken ...

... avoid your eyes and slide by or risk an assault on the pleasure receptors in your head ... y'never know how you'll react, feelgood can escalate to addiction, especially if supplies are plentiful ... check it, have you seen how many seashells there are? ...







... ignore the oohing-and-aahing you hear, it's a psychological ploy to make you think you're missing something good ... don't be fooled into swinging around to actually look, most aren't able to resist what they see ... seashells have perfected the use of colour to seduce your senses ...







... do not touch either for that matter ... there is a verifiable connection between touching seashells ... picking them up, feeling their smoothness or heft, and an overwhelming desire to own them ... it doesn't stop there ... many, many shells are aware of this and offer tactility designed to ensnare you ...








... of course it was inevitable that seashells would start to drift upmarket ... initially there was the seemingly ad hoc patterning, but frequent observation of geometrically consistent design in shell after shell, combined with use of colour and sheen, indicates malice aforethought ...











... despite the ubiquity of seashells and collections thereof, there has, to date, been precious little insight into this "condition," neither uncommon nor new, but strangely still unnamed ... perhaps because it's not known to be fatal ... in many cultures the very young may even thrive on it ... for grown adults though, tread carefully and use sound judgement ... seek help if you start to dream about seashells or hallucinate ...

... I'll include a simple yes-or-no test for your peace of mind should you feel uneasy about overexposure to seashells ... look at the next image and answer the question ...

... is this a seashell pretending to be a peacock? ...