So after my musings about how the rain don't really show in these parts, we had a doozie of a storm up here.
At midnight while chatting with Madhusree who was in New York complaining it's wet, the wind had been pretty noisy, gaining in speed and sound. And while we spoke I kept trying to turn the lamp on with no success. Took a while before it struck me the lights were out. In a while, so was the phone.
My love of nature was severely tested. I could see wires all fallen down, trees that looked like deranged dervishes, all whirling, no grace, and I kept waiting for the lights to come back and not think of being alone on Commercial Street, about movies like The Perfect Storm (although the thought of George Clooney did momentarily distract me) and also about ghosts and serial killers. Finally I reacted to crisis in time honoured way by going to sleep. Lights came back on only around noon. Phones are still iffy. The sun comes and goes. And already people are out jogging.
Needless to say, I am not one of them. And I got no picture to prove nothing.