It's 3 o'clock in the morning Friday and for the first time since Monday, there's no rain. Just like that. It's over. Or is it? I certainly hope so. Unlike the tornado that ripped through New Smyrna Beach in February 2007 and even the hurricanes of 2004, that delivered knockout punches, Tropical Storm Fay hung in there like a boxer going 12 rounds, chipping away at her opponent and scoring that exta point each round for the decision.
Fay wasn't real. She was a tease.
She called our bluff and we buckled. She kept our children out of school for four out of the first five days of a new year.
She caused fits for parents who couldn't find immediate day care options.
Fay caused some of us early on to make a run on extra bread, milk, batteries and gasoline.
She took a life locally -- a 35-year-old tourist from New York here with her husband caught up in the excitement challenging what was perceived to be a lightweight storm by standing in waist-deep water in the Daytona Beach surf and being swept under to her death.
Fay knocked out the lights and cable when she felt like it, though fortunately for most of us here in Southeast Volusia, the biggest outage Thursday only lasted the better part of an afternoon.
You've heard the expression the calm before the storm. Well here's my expression at 3 o'clock in the moring, if it makes any sense to you who read this blog entry: The calm after the storm.
It's really weird when something like Fay takes on a life of her own and then she's gone just like that. Just like that poor woman in the surf.