Come On Irene.

Being housebound with rainy weather for only two days started to cause symptoms of cabin fever to develop.  Even though the widespread panic about Hurricane Irene didn’t amount to anything around my neck of the woods, we did get some pretty nice storm swells at the beach.  Alastair and I headed for Singing Beach in Manchester-by-the-Sea.  The wind was still whipping, but quite a few people were out on the coastline to see what the hurricane had produced by way of waves.

Impressive, it was.

I was almost knocked over when I put my feet in to test the temperature.  Graceful.

So why not go for a swim?  Believe me, I was hesitant at best, considering there was no one else even near the water’s edge, but we couldn’t resist the urge.  Alastair and I went home for our swimsuits and brought the family back with us.  I imagine most people on the beach thought we were insane.

I was on the verge of chickening out while my niece, Aly and my nephew, Max were excitedly cheering us on.

In we go!  Slowly…

Slowly…

The water was ridiculously strong and I didn’t dare go out as far as Alastair, but it was exhilarating nonetheless.  After we got out and endured the stares from shocked strangers, a small news crew wanted to interview me.  They were from Cape Ann News capturing images of the storm swell and wanted to know WHY I would want to go swimming.  I told them it looked like fun :)

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3 thoughts on “Come On Irene.

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