October may mean fall color and falling leaves for some, but for me it will always mean the end of the long, hot summer–and the busiest time of hurricane season.
As I’m typing this, it’s been two days since Hurricane Helene roared up from the Gulf of Mexico and created havoc throughout the south. We were fortunate–and blessed–at our house, because the creek didn’t rise and my wooden house held together despite the pounding winds. But others were not so lucky. Friends who live on the “barrier islands” have still not been allowed back to their homes, and others are still without power. My messianic synagogue had a foot of water in the building. And I’ve been glued to the television, watching scenes of horrific damage to businesses and homes farther north, even into the Carolinas and Georgia.
And there’s another storm brewing in the gulf. Maybe I’ll keep my storm window polycarbonate panels on a few days more . . .
When I was a kid, hurricanes were no big deal. I’m a Florida native, so I’m used to them. But Florida wasn’t as populated then, cities weren’t overbuilt, and nature has a way of taking care of itself. But when you build right smack next to the ocean, and when you take away area that the water needs in order to escape . . . well, you have problems.
Our lot has several HUGE live oaks, any one of which could fall and utterly destroy our house. Our insurance companies routinely ask us to take them down, but they shade us in the summer and delight us all year long, not to mention providing homes for squirrels and birds and those little green worms that dangle in mid-air every February and March. I figure the oaks have been here far longer than the house, so they can stay. Not surprisingly, it’s the skinny little non-native trees I’ve planted that tend to be flattened by hurricane winds. I have two Australian rainbow eucalyptus trees, however, that are still standing and swaying. Those things are fantastic!
So if you ever want to experience a hurricane, come to Florida in late September or October. That’s our busiest time of year. (I actually did have an Airbnb guest with us this week–he did just fine.) Just don’t stay on the beach.
Say a prayer for us, will you? Hurricane season isn’t over until November!
~Angie
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Bridget says
I live in Florida also. I am definitely praying for us all! Stay safe! 🙏
Angie says
You, too! Obviously, I wrote this before Milton formed, but it’s Wednesday now, Milton’s on his way, and I’m worried about those oaks! Need to go outside and pray over them. Stay safe and dry!
D'Ann Mateer says
Praying for all of y’all in Florida!
Angie says
Thank you! Today’s (or tonight) is the day Milton comes to visit, so we really appreciate the prayers!
Jocelyn says
We are on the west coast but thankfully not on any water. Still it is something we need to pay attention to. Hurricanes can be deadly no matter how small. And as we have experienced with Helene, you don’t have to be on the ocean. Praying for all that are in Milton’s path.
Angie says
Yes, indeed. Praying for all of Florida!
Jen says
Prayers indeed!
We are Hearing about the next big one heading to Florida this morning.
Angela Hunt says
Yes, I’m not feeling nearly as glib this morning as I was when I typed this blog post. Milton is no laughing matter, and I would beg for your prayers tonight as it comes ashore. Thank you!
Amy D says
This Louisiana girl is praying for all of you in Florida in this storm’s path.
Angela Hunt says
Thank you!
Elisa says
Stay safe and dry everyone! We get tropical depressions here in the mid-Atlantic region but high water, flooding, and winds are still problematic.
Angela Hunt says
Yes–please pray for us tonight. We haven’t had a storm like this in over 100 years!