Miriam Butler looked out at a flooded street in Crystal River, northwest Florida, where an abandoned car stood semi-submerged in the murky waters.
The 82-year said she was tired, and hadn't yet summoned the strength to inspect the damage that Hurricane Idalia inflicted on her small landscaping business.
"I know the water got inside and ruined everything for me," said the native Honduran who has lived in Florida for more than 30 years.
"I'm an old lady, I've worked so hard and these storms leave you so frustrated," she told AFP.
The wind caused little damage here, unlike the area where the hurricane first hit the coast, some 105 miles (170 kilometers) to the north. Rooftops are intact and the trees lining the streets are still standing.
Flooding was always the risk in Crystal River, which lies on an estuary where spring-fed rivers mix with the saltwaters of the Gulf of Mexico.
On Wednesday as Idalia roared ashore, a storm surge reached heights of eight feet 10 inches (2.7 meters) in parts of this coastal town of 3,400 inhabitants.
Several streets here were still choked with water Thursday, and residents who evacuated were returning to their homes or stores to check the impact of the storm.
- Sandbags and duct tape –
For many in Crystal River there was a singular path forward -- put on gloves and get to work cleaning up.
Michael Curry, who owns a roofing company in town, quickly began repairing damage to his premises with one goal in mind: to reopen on Monday.
The sandbags and duct tape he placed on doors and windows were not enough to prevent about two feet of water from entering his business.
So now he and his employees have to strip the insulation from the walls, rip out carpeting and replace everything in order to prevent mold.
"Now we should be good, but in a week or a month, we could be gearing up to do this again," the 43-year-old said stoically. "That's just part of living here."
A mile away, next to the estuary renowned as a safe haven for manatees, Bob Bieniek walked through his two-story house.
After years living in the town, the 66-year-old real estate agent has become used to flooding. But he didn't expect to suffer so much damage this time.
On Wednesday, the water rose to more than six feet inside his home, saturating the walls and breaking a kitchen cabinet. Outside, part of a mooring was torn away by the floodwaters.
Bieniek bore it calmly. Despite the threat of hurricanes and flooding on the Florida coast, it does not cross his mind to go elsewhere.
"I'm coming here to retire so we'll stay here, you know?" he said.
"I'm going to buy something higher. Or we're going to build a house here, higher on stilts," he pondered. "This is life in paradise."
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