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Weather: A chance of showers before 11am, then a chance of showers and thunderstorms between 11am and 2pm, then showers and possibly a thunderstorm after 2pm. High near 90. Light north wind becoming northeast 5 to 10 mph in the morning. Winds could gust as high as 16 mph. Chance of precipitation is 80%. Thursday Night: Showers and possibly a thunderstorm before 8pm, then a chance of showers and thunderstorms after 8pm. Low around 76. Chance of precipitation is 80%.
- Daily weather briefing from the National Weather Service in Jacksonville here.
- Drought conditions here. (What is the Keetch-Byram drought index?).
- Check today’s tides in Daytona Beach (a few minutes off from Flagler Beach) here.
- Tropical cyclone activity here, and even more details here.
Today at a Glance:
Drug Court convenes before Circuit Judge Dawn Nichols at 10 a.m. in Courtroom 401 at the Flagler County courthouse, Kim C. Hammond Justice Center 1769 E Moody Blvd, Bldg 1, Bunnell. Drug Court is open to the public. See the Drug Court handbook here and the participation agreement here.
Model Yacht Club Races at the Pond in Palm Coast’s Central Park, from noon to 2 p.m. in Central Park in Town Center, 975 Central Ave. Join Bill Wells, Bob Rupp and other members of the Palm Coast Model Yacht Club, watch them race or join the races with your own model yacht. No dues to join the club, which meets at the pond in Central Park every Thursday.
Story Time for Preschoolers at Flagler Beach Public Library, 11 to 11:30 a.m. at the library, 315 South Seventh Street, Flagler Beach. It’s where the wild things are: Hop on for stories and songs with Miss Doris.
Notably: I was looking for a picture to illustrate an upcoming Conversation piece on an Aristotelian take on leisure. The picture the Conversation was providing was a stock image of a woman gazing out with that wistful look of a stereotypical Rousseau at a natural setting, a bit of a cliché (incidentally, un cliché, the French word, also means “photograph”). I looked in my own image library and stumbled on that picture above, which I took in Death Valley a few years ago. We were driving by. I saw the scene. It was so absurd, so sublime, that we stopped and I asked the woman if I could take her picture. She gave permission. I did not want to intrude further so I didn’t ask what she was doing there, though the date of the picture hints at the occasion, as does the potted tree–a potted tree in Death Valley? It was Christmas Day. That was the Christmas Cheryl Luka and I were in Vegas for a chess tournament Luka had entered. We’d gone a few days early to take these trips to Death Valley and elsewhere, and to spend Christmas there. That scene proved one of the great gifts of that day’s particular drive, as Death Valley always is–a gift to the senses and to the soul, especially when it’s not 110 degrees. It was cold that morning by the salt flats, which from a certain angle shimmered like a billion Christmas lights under a sky so limpid it was almost crisp enough to make you wonder: what took Christ to choose Bethlehem when he could have cradled in Death Valley–preferably not in the cabin Charles Manson called home for a while: he was arrested in Death Valley–and probably spared us a great deal of trouble, billion-year-old geology being so much less finicky than hot shot Levantines born, in comparison, yesterday.
—P.T.
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August 2025
Flagler County Drug Court Convenes
Story Time for Preschoolers at Flagler Beach Public Library
Model Yacht Club Races at the Pond in Palm Coast’s Town Center
Free For All Fridays With Host David Ayres on WNZF
Friday Blue Forum
For the full calendar, go here.
After about a mile the canyon opened out, and I could see farther. The sun lit the top of one ridge, and then slid to the next. I passed greenery — mesquite trees, scrubby willows — and thumb-shaped cacti poking from the canyon walls. In the crook of a switchback was a spring, upwelling and dark-tinted among creepers and weeds. After another few miles the day became hot. The sun, now overhead, filled the widened canyon with a fierce brightness unmarred by any shade. The silence remained vast. A raven glided over a ridge, and I thought of the Manson family members, some of them young women with babies, hiking up this track barefoot back in 1969. Then I began to think about 1969 in general, and what an unhinged year it was, and how the insane expression in Charles Manson’s eyes in that photograph of him on the cover of Life magazine seemed an apt image for that time. I had begun to give myself the creeps when I was distracted by the sound of an engine, and then by the sight of a bright-red ATV coming up the road. It stopped beside me, and its window rolled down. In it were Scott and Marv, businessmen from suburban Chicago, who were tooling around the desert in Marv’s high-tech, diesel-powered, tanklike, very expensive Hummer while their wives played blackjack in Vegas. They were looking for Manson’s hideout too. They had read about it in a guidebook. They offered me a ride, and I hopped in.
–From Ian Frazier’s “Desert Hideaway,” The Atlantic, February 2000.
Pogo says
Doom says
The new horse of the apocalypse should be “misinformation “
Pierre Tristam says
Damn right. Starting with IDF propaganda.