I am constantly scared. All day long my brain is running away as fast as it can from everything I meant to be learning in class. I can’t do my homework, focus on athletic practices, or actively participate in conversations with my friends. Because I am scared. Fiona, Idalia, Lee, Nigel, ripping through my home. While I’m here. Useless.
This past week Lee was a threat to the Northeast, sparking widespread discussion amongst the student body. Conversation revolved around time off school or complaints about the unpleasant weather. But for me, this looming hurricane wasn’t a mere topic of excitement or annoyance; it was a potential danger. Lee threatened my family on the small, hurricane prone island that they call home. It’s not the fault of my classmates; I likely would’ve reacted the same way if I didn’t have firsthand experience or family at risk. I would’ve joined in on the laughter and complaints. But I know hurricanes too well.
My family lost power on Thursday night. There was no contact. I could only read the news and track the storm online. Thoughts of what could be filled my brain. Stories and times of storms in the past would creep in and overtake whatever else I was doing. I could vividly recall the haunting sound of the wind howling, rattling the boards that lined the windows. I could hear the rain hammering the roof with an unrelenting drive. Someone once described it to me as a symphony of chaos and power. Each gust of wind, a reminder of mother nature’s dominance.
Terrifying.
My family was fine. Hurricane Lee left my house unscathed. They were lucky. The waves were massive, and the trees were blown around. My friend’s yard caught on fire from a fallen electricity pole and another friend’s first floor flooded. But there were no casualties.
More often than not, when hurricanes come our way, the outcome is rather predictable: a temporary loss of power and some damage to the island’s lush foliage. So, it’s not very logical how I feel when these storms are happening. Amidst the destructive winds, my family retreats indoors and delves into a world of cards and games. School and work take a back seat, granting us an unexpected breather. While hurricanes may unleash destruction, they also forge a unique sense of community and resilience amongst Bermudians and whoever else they impact.
As hurricane Nigel approaches this weekend, I will likely find myself glued to the internet, tracking the storms every move. Even though it may seem a bit unhealthy, it is how I stay connected to the people and place that I love during these unpredictable times. But I know that my island weathers every storm that comes its way and will come out the other side better.