FIRST PERSON | WILMINGTON, N.C. -- The sky had darkened much faster than I had anticipated, the rain slashing in heavy waves long before I was ready. It was only 10 a.m. and I figured I still had plenty of time before the impending hurricane. The news reports had changed so much the night before -- first issuing us a Tropical Storm Warning, and then abruptly after, a Hurricane Warning -- that it was hard to keep up with. I found myself in my backyard, throwing old, moldy toys of my kids' in a throw-away pile, securing everything else in sight.
Monkey Junction -- the name coined for the southeastern area of Wilmington where we live, was a chaotic nightmare. There was much anxiousness in the air -- a dizzy cyclone of people pushing and shoving their way in. People were scared. I took my kids through the motions, stocked up on can goods, and got ourselves out of there as fast as we could. We battered the heavy rains in the parking lot, and amazingly, made our way safely home.
As evening neared the winds grew stronger, the rain falling harder, with no relief in sight. A tornado watch was issued for our area. We watched outside as vibrant illuminations of blue filled the sky -- an eerie, array of power flashes from transformers or lines sparking. People everywhere were losing power.
I woke in the middle of the night at 3:00AM to watch the worst of it. The gusts had reached their heaviest, our fence rattling hard. I honestly thought a tornado was coming; ready to punch through our glass windows. The power turned off, then on, repeatedly. Tall, skinny pine trees shook fiercely in the distance. I stepped outside to watch the clouds move with impeccable speed, glanced across the yard to see large branches of fallen trees.
More than half of my Facebook friends reported power outages. I thanked our lucky stars that our power kept intact. And now as we experience the last fringes of Hurricane Irene, her toes gently brushing against our city as she continues northward, I feel as though nature has its purposes. My backyard is now clear and rid of junk -- the forces of a hurricane forcing me to go out with the old, and ready for a new sunny day tomorrow, as the weather man predicts.
