It appears we may have lost our roll of the dice regarding experiencing a hurricane in Florida. We moved here nine years ago this month. Most of our worldly goods were piled into a rental truck. One of our sons drove our car, which was also packed as we moved from North Dakota to Florida. No more blizzards and bone chilling cold winters for us.
I ignored the possibility of a someday hurricane. I’d visited Florida for years, experienced some wild storms, but hurricanes. Best not to think of those.
Yet, the insistent media coverage of hurricane season prompted me to put together a tote of stuff needed should a hurricane hit. I reviewed hurricane preparation plans carefully each June. I had my spouse recheck that tote and toss old granola bars, check for bugs, and put the lid back on. Then I got negligent a couple of years ago. After all, we’d managed to hang in there through some tropical storms. We’d sat and watched the TV as tornadoes danced not that far away.
This year I shifted back to hurricane alert status. Not sure why. Something pinged inside. So I pushed to make sure we had the needed supplies. I reviewed the plan but without any sense of urgency. As October arrived, I focused more on the heat and humidity. It had been a hot summer and I was ready for a weather change.
I was not ready for a hurricane watch. I was not ready to face the decisions about evacuating versus riding out Hurricane Matthew. But ready or not, that is the reality.
What I was ready for was writing a blog on one of my favorite authors, Wendell Berry. Hurricane experience first, Wendell Berry next. I’ll probably consider this an adventure once it is over. Not there right now.