A Day in the Eye of a Hurricane
The guilt and gratitude of passing the day unscathed
Spinning, churning, tracks are forming, the path is coming near.
Forecasts change day by day. The cone of uncertainty is…unclear.
60 miles from the coast, the chances of a direct hit are reduced. It’s the “dirty” side of the storm that concerns.
You buy the basics, including food that doesn’t require cooking or refrigeration, and fill tubs and pitchers with water.
Watching with a weary eye, the storm weakens.
Then turns north and gets stronger.
Predictions and warnings become more insistent, but the night approaches and the weather is mild.
Maybe they were wrong. It wouldn’t be the first time.
You drift to sleep only to be awakened an hour later by the howling wind.
A few hours later, the howl becomes a torrent.
There is nothing to do in the wee hours of the morning but try to sleep and hope it will pass quickly.
Morning comes and you peek outside. The wind is angry and the rain is pelting. Trees sway and shake, your street a flowing river. Limbs are down, and the landscape has completely changed from the night before.
