There’s a certain point in the year in Florida where everyone just quietly acknowledges that it’s hurricane season.
Not in a dramatic way, just in a “we’ll keep an eye on it” kind of way. People check the weather a little more often, maybe grab a few extra things at the store, and then mostly go about their lives unless something actually turns into something.
I didn’t grow up with that.
I had been through Hurricane Sandy when I was living on Long Island, and that was its own kind of scary. We never lost power, but I remember the uncertainty of it, the waiting, and not really knowing what was going to happen next. That was my baseline for what a storm like that felt like.
So my sophomore year of college, when I ended up staying at my now husband’s family’s house during my second Florida hurricane, I was not nearly as relaxed as everyone else. School had shut down for a while, and we all called it a “hurrication” at the end of it all which felt like a very Florida way to describe something I was definitely not treating like a vacation.
I remember being genuinely nervous about the whole thing, while everyone else seemed completely used to it. There was this calm, matter-of-fact attitude about the storm, like it was just something to keep an eye on instead of something to panic about.
At one point, the eye of the hurricane passed over us, and everything got quiet for a little while. I thought that meant we were done. Sam did not. He went outside. I’m pretty sure that was the moment I realized Florida people operate on a completely different level when it comes to weather.
And to be fair, it does get dramatic when it needs to. If Jim Cantore shows up, everything changes. Suddenly the store is out of water bottles and toilet paper, except for the Dasani, because we apparently still have standards. Publix starts making hurricane cakes, and everyone collectively decides it might actually be time to pay attention.
My first hurricane in our own home here in Florida felt different again. That was Milton, and while our house was spared any real damage, a lot of our neighborhood wasn’t as lucky. We lost power for a couple of days, and a tree came down across our driveway. Friends came over and helped us clear it, which ended up meaning more than I expected in the moment.
Looking back, that’s what sticks with me the most across all of it.
Not just the storms themselves, but how people handle them. The calm, the preparation, the willingness to help each other out when something actually does happen. There’s a steadiness to it that I didn’t understand at first, but I’ve come to appreciate.
I still don’t think I’ll ever be relaxed during hurricane season, but I’ve learned that there’s a way to move through it without letting it take over everything. Now I just have to learn how to implement it.
And apparently, that sometimes includes stepping outside at exactly the wrong moment.
– Blaze 🍞✨
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