That morning, a fierce wind howled. We could hear its moaning thru the walls of the house.
Shrub and tree branches whipped dramatically left and right and up and down. A large limb lay on the ground at the base of the Walnut tree. The garbage cans fell over. The sticks and trimmings in the yard waste can were gone, evidently having been blown down the street and maybe piled up in the corner of someone’s yard.
The car shook as I commuted east in the pre-dawn light.
The rising sun struggled to shine.