A Tropical Storm, Hermine.
“Conversation about the weather is the last refuge of the unimaginative.” Oscar Wilde
Hearing the sirens, and then sound blasts from the TV is unnerving; hearing a weatherman plot the course of an unseen tornado, and recognizing the cross streets, because they are within blocks of our house creates a dry mouth, quickly. Faster actually then I could have imagined.
Then while huddled in a bathroom . . . the only interior space, I remembered: I have no shoes on, and if the house does collapse, it might be tricky picking my way through the debris. This is not good. Then I imagined what the bathroom would look like if the house in fact collapsed. Being barefoot would not be my biggest problem.
But, we had our cell phones and computer; so. we could chat about our predicament to other family, across town, huddled in their interior walled closet. What’s more, I remembered to bring in bottled water – no shoes, but I have water. And we can watch the storm pass by, electronically, as the computer shows colored cells moving away.
The watch is not yet over – but I am hopeful the deluge will not turn back.
Last week, a category 4 hurricane blew itself out over the eastern seaboard – and a tropical storm dumped so much rain in Texas, we had deadly floods, and tornadoes. Two people lost their lives, and others lost their property. And Friday marks the peak of the hurricane season.
Tonight’s conversation may be unimaginative, how-some-ever, I am much relieved to be having a tiresome chat about the weather now, considering what I was imagining when the sirens went off, and Doug and I were huddled in the guest bath.