Well, it was bound to hapoen, I suppose. After all, I do live on the Texas Gulf Coast, and it is June, eh? That means it’s hurricane season, and after what the 2005 season wrought, it’s hard to be sanguine about this year’s prospects. Prior to 2005, I was aware of what a hurricane could do, but 2005 taught me, and indeed many of us along the Gulf Coast, exactly what sort of havoc a hurricane could wreak.
I have a few recurring and vivid memories of last summer, most notably laying in a hotel room in Williamsburg, VA, and dozing fitfully as She Who Endures My Myriad Eccentricities and I watched CNN all night long when Rita made landfall. Sixty miles to the west, and our home would have been so many toothpicks. As it was, our little piece of Paradise a half-mile from the Gulf didn’t lose so much as a shingle, though most of the things we had out on the deck were scattered about the back yard. Things could have been a whole lot worse.
Now here we are, nine months later, hopefully a fair bit wiser, and no less frightened of the possibilities. For the next five months, weather forecasts will take on a whole new significance. Every disturbance in the Gulf of Mexico or the Atlantic will be the subject of angst, speculation, and more than a little finger-crossing. Stay tuned, y’all; let’s hope this season will not be anywhere near as interesting as last year.
