The beach feels near.

We know this because surf board shops appear frequently, and hotels with names like "Dolphin Dreams," and "Flamingo Inn" claim vacancy. As we roll our car windows down completely, the sweet scent of the ocean fills the air.

On this warm August day, things are not normal. The shops seem unseasonably empty. Street lights malfunction at intersections, where police direct traffic. Large trees lie helpless across sidewalks and driveways, after being snapped entirely in half, or unsurfaced at the root.

The results of the natural disaster that recently struck much of Florida is painted at every corner.

We sit at one such corner, waiting for the light to change. The intersection is 92 East and Atlantic Avenue, or A1A, for short. We are in the heart of Daytona Beach – a rustic, yet pleasant city that sits on the bare edge of Florida, some 250 miles north of Miami – and that’s when the rain starts again.

Although nothing compared to the previous night’s storm, the pounding rainwater makes the road ahead barely visible. The water is thick, heavy, and appears almost to be entire waves washing up from the Atlantic Ocean, which is just one block to our left.

Sarcastically, I proclaim, "I didn’t know we entered the ocean!"

I guess it’s no time for jokes, as Michelle tries her hardest to navigate through the storm, like a captain at sea, testing uncharted waters. "What a vacation. Nothing but rain and hurricanes." Michelle then lets out a brief "sigh," as she squints her eyes, to focus on the road.

After only being in Florida for a day and a half, we have already accumulated as much water as Chicago receives during an entire summer. I guess we can’t help it that Charley decided to take a Florida vacation the same time we did. One of largest hurricanes to pound Florida since Floyd, in 1999 – Charley certainly didn’t let anyone down.

The Beach Quarters, at 3711 S. Atlantic Avenue finally comes into our radar, on the left. Although parking seems tight, and the storm has yet to let up, we have no other option but to go inside and see if we can check in.

Much to our dismay, The Beach Quarters is not allowing guests to check in, due to lack of power in the entire building. With nowhere to stay, and the power out indefinitely, our vacation has turned into our own version of a natural disaster. Could things get any worse?

Refusing to make the hour trip back to Orlando, Michelle and I seek alternate lodging. The staff at The Beach Quarters assured us the power would return by midnight that night, or sometime the next day. But we knew... much like Charley’s intense winds destroying certain targets, no one is certain of what will happen next.