Today has been extraordinary.
Three whole hours before high tide, the sea was only just below the road. We took the car around the island hoping to get back to the cottage before high tide. An hour before high tide, we were cut off 20 minutes from home. We watched the sea creep over the road on the sheltered side of the island. It was like watching a giant bowl of boiling broth, lapping over the sides.
There is something incredibly compelling about watching the the power of nature. We watched a lady on the news quite giddy about watching the tidal surge and storm while houses behind her were flooding. We understood exactly why she felt like it - we felt it too. But we also watched a beautiful wooden chalet workshop getting flooded with a family standing watching helplessly. That was disturbing.
On the west side of the island, the waves and surge of the sea were mesmerising but we kept our distance. We did invite the couple on the photo to sit in the car while they waited for the bus but they declined our offer, reinforcing this strange human desire to enjoy being a little too close to danger.
About an hour after high tide, we managed to get through slowly. Parts of the road have been washed away, seaweed in places was a foot deep on the tarmac and rocks the size of large fists along with gravel from the beach have been washed up onto the road.
The wind has now subsided, the overnight high tide is lower than today's and a digger is on its way around the island clearing the roads. So, hopefully, we have a break in the weather to catch our ferry in the morning before the next storm comes in.
We've had a fabulous week and been very lucky managing to get out and do as much as we have.
I'm looking forward to having some time next week to catch up with your journals and say hello to people who have subscribed to my journal recently - many thanks for so many lovely comments, stars and faves this week - I've really enjoyed reading them.