As I write this, the rain is starting to really bucket down, and the wind is picking up. I think New York has now officially met the hurricane called Irene.
It was a pretty quiet day, all told, spent mostly just waiting for the other shoe (a galosh, no doubt) to drop. To watch television news, you’d think the east coast of the United States was the only place left in the world; hurricane coverage has eclipsed everything else.
We’ve only lost power once so far, and then only briefly, and overall the weather’s not too been too bad. But this could go on and get worse throughout the night and into tomorrow. We’ll see. We’re not hunkered in the basement or anything, sandbags at the ready, if you’re worried.
It feels slightly weird packing for a trip to the Canadian Rockies amid all this, the earthquakes and hurricanes and what’s still very much summery weather here. And now I seem to have somehow been talked into a trail ride while I’m there in Banff…
I shall look upon this as a a mad adventure. I think that’s the only sensible approach.