Well, technically not in the hurricane but more so in its aftermath. Hurricane Ivan in its reduced strength nevertheless powerful avatar passed north of Atlanta after literally bringing the Gulf Coast to its knees. Atlanta merely got some “in the band” showers. But if that was mild, I cannot begin to imagine the brunt of nature right near the eye-wall of the storm.
After spending an entire day cooped up at home, watching the rain beating down hard and the wind literally whipping the crap out of the poor trees, I was desperate to get some fresh air. Have I mentioned about my inane craving for getting out at least once a day out in the open? Maybe not. Anyways, I had decided to venture out, rain or not at an unearthly hour of 11:00pm. The gods may have heard that wish. The skies cleared precisely at the eleventh hour (pun intended). They seem to hear the wrong ones lately. All my sissy friends backed out or were just tired to brave the storm again after being drenched earlier.
I call up my parents on my cell, as I take our regular route. The howling winds make it difficult to carry on a meaningful conversation so I just call up my brother and inform him that if he has a foot of snow in winter up north, I have a foot of rain in peak-hurricane season down south. Done with the weekly formalities, I continue walking amidst paths strewn with dead twigs and discarded foliage. Some are still twitching as if life has been hurriedly snuffed out of them. I soon realize that is merely the mischievous prank of the wind. The wind picks up speed and dies almost like a sinuous curve except with no predictability. The tall trees get hit hardest as they struggle to maintain the posture. The smaller shrubs merely heave a sigh of relief as the wind just ruffles them. All the swaying and heaving flora having a massive intercourse unabashedly with the wind, complete with orgasmic moaning with a single crazy human witnessing it all, makes it an interesting spectacle of nature. The perfunctory patrol car on its rounds tries to instill a sense of order in chaotic surroundings. With no one around, it soon vanishes too.
I take the longer circuitous route which would take a full two miles from home. I get quizzical looks from folks driving home in a hurry. I just wish I had a long flowing white robe to give a ghostly look. The crash count would have definitely been higher — White apparition leads to a dozen crashes — would read the next day’s paper. I chuckle to myself at this sadistic thought. With no one to accompany me, it gives me quality time to sort out certain things in my life. Then I realize that I have a lot of that already nevertheless the dead of the night with howling wind makes it more dramatic. The washed and thoroughly scrubbed fresh air does give you a heady feeling though and worries seem to vanish for a fleeting moment.
It slowly starts to drizzle. Not pouring rain but mere fat droplets of the late clouds. Soon, I am drenched but I don’t mind it. It has been long since I have been out in the rain. The Maroon 5 song seems like a perfect soundtrack for the moment. Singin in the Rain is history. After a solid hour and a half in the hurricane wind, I am back home.
Ah-ha! That really felt great. I am thinking of taking solitary walks more often.