Jesus Rays over the Atlantic

It was a restless night. The wind was blowing. Causing the back porch screen door to blow open and then slap back with a loud clap. Eventually, I got up to latch it. Anne thanked me when I returned to bed. It had awoken her too. The latch didn’t hold though and the slap clap of the back door began again. This time, when I got up again, I went down to the basement, out the basement door and retrieved my utility brick by the side of the house. Wending my way back and then to the back porch, I placed the brick outside the screen door, but I couldn’t quite place it as close as I would like, which allowed the screen door to still slap clap, but at a much reduced volume. Sleep eventually found me again.

In the morning, it was raining cats and dogs and I was awoken again by the boom of thunder. I got soaked fetching the paper. The morning rain, gave way to a pleasant afternoon and we went for a walk. The sun even peaked out for a while. It was warm enough that we extended our regular walk. We went to Starbucks for late afternoon lattes. On the way home, the skies darken again, but radar indicated that we were in no immediate danger. Later, NPR sounded a thunderstorm alarm, but the squall line passed uneventfully to our north.

The wind came up again, causing the digital broadcast TV signal to disintegrate across the screen. We switched to Netflix and its wi-fi Chrome-casted signal. We binged the remainder of Russian Doll, which morphed into a buddy movie for uptight New Yorkers. Then watched SNL. By then the wind had subsided.

This morning dawned cold, but bright. For some reason, we got up an hour later than we had expected to. Winter storm Taylor had passed to the east, but not without leaving one last calling card. Our sign of inclusion had been blown up the street. This is one of those signs that reads, “No matter where you are from, we are glad that you are our neighbor.” A message that is repeated in Spanish and Arabic. Undamaged, I replanted it. It looks like it will be a nice day.