There was a furious storm in the night.
I could hear trees bending this way and that as the darting wind changed direction.
Then the storm quieted and there was a drenching rain.
Sure enough, trees were down on the road to the retirement home. I had to wait while one tree was cleared.
Harriet was sad today.
“Why must it take so long to die?, she said.
She looked at the clock. I asked her what the time was.
That’s when I realised she could not tell the time any more.
“I’ve brought you some chocolate,” I said.
“Ah, chocolate”, and her face brightened.
She even made a joke then. “You’re a busy person”, she said. “I’m not a busy person.”
It was no Hurricane Sandy, just a pocket of turbulence in a quiet place.
But one elderly man died in a neighbouring village when his car was lodged under a low bridge as a river broke its banks.