The Tempest

They say it's been 20 years since a hurricane has hit Reunion Island directly. Usually it runs just off to the side, which is, of course, enough to cause some serious damage. But this year we were hit straight on.
And I know why.

First, everything goes dark. The sky, the ocean, the apartment. The wind picks up. In the beginning it all feels normal, like any other storm. Then the rain starts...soft little showers at first, but then suddenly it's pounding, beating, and the winds are changing. Nothing is going in one direction anymore, but in all--any--direction at once.

Our apartment patio looks out onto a row of palm trees. I watched as they arched, their leaves like locks of hair being blasted backwards, as if they were all standing before a giant beast roaring madly into their coconut faces. The brave fellows stood their ground.

As we live in an apartment building, we don't have many material things to worry about...no possible costly damage to the roof, no trees falling, no windows breaking. My tiny patio garden was able to be moved inside, and the building has hung on for many a hurricane season, so we weren't worried about crumbling to the ground. 

The only thing we did slightly worry about was Richard's car. It was parked under a threatening Christmas decoration hanging by it's last cord. I suggested we move the car...but we kinda dawdled. The wind was howling so loudly that at times I had literal chills go up my spine. The next time we looked, the decoration had been torn off and was laying on the ground next to the car, seconds away from flipping up and smashing something. We decided to go down and move the car. 

Walking outside during the hurricane was nothing like viewing it from the safety of the terrace. The energy and force of the wind hurling itself against you makes your heart stop. Your eyes dart around wildly, scanning for random flying objects. Trees, mangoes, billboards, stop signs...we watched all of them get flung around like children's toys from the balcony...now as tiny little ants crawling outside the apartment building, they seemed so much bigger. Heavier. Deadlier. We made it to the car and moved it safely under our apartment, away from the downed Christmas decoration. 

An hour later, a metal boutique sign smacked into the car and broke off the mirror. Go figure. 

The decoration is that triangle thing in the right corner. Sigh. A lot smaller...and lighter...

The hurricane seemed to go on forever. The electricity was cut, so we passed the time by reading, studying each other's languages, playing tricks on the sleeping cat, and walking outside every so often to see how things were advancing. Trees were uprooted, the billboard was now flying down the road, lampposts were crashing through windows and...I have to admit, it was all kind of exciting. 

Because only the strongest winds of change can shake up the damaged parts of you. The buried things you pretend you're over. The pieces of the past that you no longer need or want but you keep because you don't know how to let go. 

And only the most unyielding of rain can take all that debris and carry it away; let it drown silently into the darkest depths of the sea. Allowing a total reset, and an opportunity to forge a new path forward.

The eye of the storm passed just before night fell. Even though we were in Red Alert and could be fined for going outside, we wanted to see...(and we certainly weren't the only ones!)

The barrier on the left is usually a sidewalk...

So is this.

After about an hour the wind started to pick up again so we ran home.

For dinner we lit some candles and ate everything left in the fridge. (This included a lot of ice cream.)

Sleep was impossible. The colony of frogs in the ravine behind us were thrilled with the new abundance of water and wouldn't shut up about it. The cat sought his revenge and kept scaring the crap out of us by jumping on our sleeping faces every couple of hours. And the wind shook the front door so violently at times that I seriously considered maybe there was a crazy person on the other side trying to get in. 

Finally, daylight came and the townspeople stepped blinking out into the mango-covered streets.  

Collectively, we all started the clean-up. 

Away with the now useless, damaged debris...

...and into the cleansed, untouched newness. 

I have a feeling 2014 is going to be a magical year.