Just stepped outside, for only a second. There’s no rain yet, but it’s coming. The wind has sent ambassadors of intent, however. Leaves are trembling against each other, making a sound like a hundred rusty tambourines. I can only imagine what it must sound like … what it must feel like … what it must be like, just a few hundred miles to the south.
Hold on, Mobile. Hold on, New Orleans. Hold on, Biloxi. And Pensacola? Oh, I imagine you’ve seen worse during Spring Break …
