The Multisensory Experience Of A Hurricane

I saw:

• the darkest of any dark sky I have ever known.
• daylight finally filtering through a fine mist.
• trees thrown like Lincoln Logs, but none on the house or on my car.
• two porch columns in the bushes.
• faces filled with disbelief.
• no way in or out.
• disappearing bars of phone signal.

I heard:

• the bedroom fan stop at 2:37am.
• my heart beating in my ears.
• unidentifiable sounds..."Eric? Is that the shed door banging the front of my car?"
• the fear in my own voice..."Eric? Should we get in the closet, now?"
• the riotous, unbridled, violent wind.
• the silence in the middle.
• chainsaws roaring to life. "Eric, please be careful. The ambulance cannot get to us."
• the whine of legions of displaced mosquitos on the hunt.

I smelled:

• SO...MUCH...PINE.
• that after storm scent...but more intense...petrichor.
• gasoline for ravenous generators.
• pounds and pounds of sawdust.
• sunscreen...no time to waste on nursing a sunburn.
• myself...musty, swampy, adrenaline and frustration fueled.

I tasted:

• salt on my lips...tears and sweat mixed in equal parts.
• acid at the back of my throat.
• blood from the cuticle I couldn't stop gnawing.

Physically, I felt:

• Eric's hand in mine.
• sap...clinging, gluey, fifty steps beyond sticky.
• the bite of unknown insects visiting from an Egyptian plague.
• the stinging irritation of sweat dripping in my eyes.
• sneaky, hot tears sliding down my face.
• my shirt...sweat saturated and drenched...suffocating my skin.
• the resistance of fallen limbs as I dragged them across the yard and the resulting protest of an aggravated shoulder muscle.

Emotionally, I felt:

• restless.
• anxious.
• indecisive.
• overstimulated.
• uncomfortable.
• bewildered.
• shocked.
• overwhelmed.
• HOT.
• relieved.
• amazed.
• humbled.
• thankful.
• SO VERY THANKFUL.