Writing this during a presumably intermittent period of connectivity. There were gusts of up to 75 MPH at Mt. Morris last night, and I’d wager we broke 60 out here. We live near the tracks, and we hear the trains roll by, off and on, all night; in the small hours, the wind was like a thousand cars of freight roaring past just inches from our heads, hail like spits of gravel on the shingles.
This morning there’s garbage strewn across the lawns; bottom-heavy 96 gallon trash bins upended all over the neighborhood. We’ve lost power twice, maybe three times, and the elementary school has closed its doors for the day. There’s a wind advisory on until noon, the huge threatening clouds racing across the sky are straight out of Coppola’s Rumble Fish, and we’re not counting on the electricity for much longer. Later on, I might work longhand for a while; but right now the Boy and I are gearing up to play board games by windowlight until things settle.