News this week of not one but four storms in the southern Atlantic have me thinking about the hurricanes of my youth. It seems as though in the late 50s and early 60s we had storms on a pretty regular basis around here - I can remember one year when we missed school two days in the same week for two hurricanes that roared up the coast in quick succession.
I remember all those storms with not fear but fascination as we sat by the light of the old oil lamps which were still in the family home from the late 1800s. I made sure I brought one of them home with me when we cleaned out Mom's house last year and it sits at the ready with another old one I found when we moved into this old house 30 years ago. I still remember doing my homework by the light of an oil lamp because we knew that school would be back in session as soon as the quickly moving storm passed.
I also remember leaving the house in the family car, to drive around and assess the damage, as soon as the wind had significantly died down. We would "ooh" and "aah" over every downed tree and were especially fascinated with any structural damage observed. And of course the lingering storm surf was always the best part of the drive as we headed to the beach to see how wild the water was. It never disappointed!
With so many storms churning right now down south I am fearful that this may be the year we see a real storm make landfall here - its been awhile and surely we are overdue. Now that I am an adult those hurricanes have lost some of their charm - clean-up is no fun! And yet, they are still awesome to watch from the safety of our home. I think I face the autumn storm season with a mixture of anticipation and dread. Like so many things in life, what will happen will happen.
It's all in the living.