Typhoon Melor

The beginning: On Sunday sunny skies prevailed, but cloudy skies with accompanying stretches of rain, usually drizzly, moved in on Monday and maintained a "weatherly" presence through Wednesday. Wednesday afternoon our principal scooted all the teachers out of the building right after the students departed at 2:10. We had previously received notification (before noon) that complex schools for Yokosuka Navy Base would be closed on Thursday due to the impending arrival of Typhoon Melor. In it's first days of existence while residing in more southern latitudes, Melor rated a "Super Typhoon" designation, a title commensurate with a category 5 hurricane. The cooler waters it has encountered in its northward travels have weakened it; at landfall on the island of Honshu, Japan's mainland, it was expected to be a category 2 storm. At one point Melor's eye had been forecast to pass 30 miles from Yokosuka. In capricious storm fashion, though, Melor's path shifted to a more southerly landfall moment. When I arrived home late Wednesday afternoon, I slid storm shutters over the windows of my house and prepared to hunker down. Nighttime brought some hard rain and occasional wind gusts.

Now Thursday has dawned with heightening wind but also sunshine moments. As one fully mesmerized by the sea and frequently intrigued by storms, I succumbed to temptation just before nine this morning and ventured outside. Ah, silly me, I chided myself, noting the bouncing power lines above and a scattering of snapped branches on the road, this could be why one is cautioned to stay inside, and then I continued enroute to the sea. It is only a three to four minute walk to the sea from my house. As I neared the place where my road intersects the one running parallel to the sea, a clot of cars jammed the approach. Momentary reconaissance of the scene showed a police blockade of the beach road to all traffic. Thanks to the manifold meanderings I undertook during my week of recuperation after appendicitis (the doctor told me to walk as much as possible and I did), I knew an alternate route up a bluff to a small shrine overlooking the sea. However, with closer proximity to the sea, the wind kept a more constant presence and grew ever rougher. Leaves and broken branches fully carpeted the lane; some glistening shards of glass directed my eyes to the frame of a blown out window. At the shrine I finally witnessed the sea within command of the approaching storm. Truely the power of nature is a marvel...and so very humbling.

So I am safely returned to my home as I type these words. The wind has increased to its fiercest level yet. It is almost 11:00 in the morning.

I did take some photos while at the shrine this earlier, but first I have some photos to show of the same general area, ones taken several weeks ago under more conventional circumstances.

Okay, here are the photos taken today. The beach road that runs parallel to the sea--part of my usual running route--lies in front of that gray house shown in the photo below.

That white boat (above) seemed to be loose.