Jayne On Weed Street is becoming more a quarterly publication. There are events that get in the way of even the most well-meaning writer. Things like hurricanes! Besides the stress and expense and toil of evacuating from my home, I will not complain too loudly because when you see people losing EVERYTHING, you feel some gratitude that your home was spared.
We evacuated on a Friday, a day ahead of the mandatory evacuation notice, but when irksome Irma, made a left hand turn, it seemed she was headed more toward Augusta, (where we had evacuated) than our home in Savannah. So we packed up the cooler, the dogs and luggage to check out of the hotel and drive into the Twilight Zone. NO ONE seemed to be driving to Savannah or SOuth for that matter. Yes, we headed back to the hurricane. On Monday morning, the view from our front porch looked like this, as Irma came blowing through Savannah. Hurricane Matthew had toppled centuries old trees and mountains of branches on Skidaway Island 11 months before, but Irmas wrath was surging water. . Crossing the bridge to Skidaway Island looked like this as the water rose. The salt marsh disappeared. A few days later, all was back to normal. The rope bridge, as is pictured on my cover page, also disappeared. The local fowl wondered about the new landscape.
When the winds died down, the birds began to sing. The butterflies carried on as usual. Alligators showed up in unexpected places because water was everywhere. We have come to love our Southern home , but how many times can you be irked by hurricanes before you begin to second guess your choice of new home?