Old sailors have a sixth sense when it comes to wind . . .
Steve and I were watching our daughter taking a photo of a large downed limb from our half-dead oak tree (it landed right where our van normally sits). She edged out from the porch, into the light rain, and we both heard it–a rush of sound high in the trees, the forerunner of a strong gust. “Get back on the porch!” we yelled in unison.
Crack!!! Another large branch landed on the spot just vacated by the budding photojournalist. I don’t think Sarah’s going out in the yard again during this storm.