I realized two days after the hurricane that I had been cut off from the world. My walk to the stop sign hadn’t changed a bit, so life felt normal to me. The cell phone had done strange things for two days, but it righted itself. I tuned in to the church service on line and found only one man from Mississippi there with me. He and I wondered where everyone was. The tech who normally streams the service joined us. He said he didn’t know if anyone was at the church. The streaming program had started automatically. That’s when it hit me. My life had gone on after the storm, but time stopped in Asheville. Many were without power, and there was major damage everywhere near the French Broad River. The city had effectively shut down. From almost anywhere in the world, you could see more about Hurricane Helene than I could.

Shortly after the hurricane seemed to be over, Joyce texted to see if I wanted to walk to the two small streams that run under the road. I had always longed to see them during a storm, so this was perfect. We could see them without getting wet. David was driving down the street after work, and he jumped at the chance to go with us. He parked in front of Holly’s house, making her wonder who had abandoned a car and walked off.

The streams were impressive, rushing down the mountain with a roar. They were hurrying too much to flood anything on the way down.