Bring it on!

It was only a Category One.

But it was our very first hurricane, for the cats and me, so I dragged the giant, overstuffed armchair to the dual window set closest to the front door, pulled up the blinds, and the three of us settled in to watch the show.

There wasn't much to see. The most excitement happened on our back patio, when a catastrophic crash brought me running to find the patio umbrella and a few flimsy chairs had been upheaved and lay recklessly on the remnants of my better other's former carefully tended tomato plants.

Then I looked out the front window again as the rain thrummed furiously at every available surface, and the wind howled and raged at everything in it's path; and then I saw him. My reclusive, seemingly grumpy old neighbor, standing outside, in the midst of it all, face turned upwards to the sky, and his fist pumping into the whooshing air, akin to the likes of Lieutenant Dan, from "Forrest Gump", and the iconic storm scene.

It was actually the best part of the hurricane event, and I have held a special curiousity and reverent delight for that peculiar neighbor ever since. I recently discovered that he rescues stray cats and has an impromptu sort of kitty hospital inside his home. I'm pretty sure he's a writer. Oh, did I mention we live in a mobile home? Good thing it was only a Cat. 1. (;