Today, we had a little preview of hurricane season. For some reason, the wind came straight out of the west, causing the hard rain to tattoo our side door like a highland drum. The folded, bare mast and spars of our neighbor's boat were lifted above our hibiscus hedge, waving and oscillating as if at sea. Capsizing was not out of the question.
Smaller items were flung into the hedges and the tall palms turned inside out like broken umbrellas. I opened the front door a crack to experience it firsthand. The wind nearly took the door from my grip even though it was only opened enough to peek out. I locked it shut although I don't know what good locking it could do. It just felt safer. Silly.
We guessed the wind gusts might be between 50-60 mph and we have been through enough 'canes to be fair judges of gust speed. These were not altogether steady, though. The wind would moderate between gusts instead of hitting a steady 75 or so and howling up from there. There was no singing of the wind through the wires and chain link fences. No listening to that howl climb in height and volume as it approached. No hearing the trees crack and groan as roots gave way or branches twisted loose to fly.
I had better stop. I'm scaring myself . . .