Thinking back a few years, living in Fla., I remember Hurricane Irma. I was ready for it but my wife was not.
When the wind reached a screaming pitch with the trees snapping and thrashing, the horizontal streaming rain, flying roofing iron and destroyed fences as well as the unnerving sound-levels, my wife was rooted to the spot. She stared and stared through the glass of the window. Immovable, with her nose pressed to the windowpane, the stark fear in her eyes will stay with me forever.
Fortunately, as the eye of the storm arrived and the winds temporarily lessened, I was able to open the door and let her in.
