"Sometimes I live in the country, sometimes I live in town..."

My first memory is of Hurricane Carol.  Our house has a river in the backyard, so we went to my aunt and uncle's house on higher ground, above the falls.  What I remember is a strange purple living room, and grownups passing round a box of chocolates which were not for me.  That behind me:  I was looking out the window at a big storm and at little men in yellow putting sandbags on the dam.

I hope my mother's house is all right.  I worry about the low ground and the ancient willow, which has (in other storms) dropped branches big as full-grown trees.

The last hurricane we had here in the city, the wind was exactly perpendicular to the ridgepole of the house beneath my window, and the rain came over it in one heavy smooth relentless wave.

Nine