Typhoon Phanfone in Three Parts

(There are no photos because the rain and wind would have ruined my camera! I'll try next typhoon and see if I can capture the winds. The rains flood the area and drenched me to the skin.)

I

It begins with rain,

thick, heavy drops

that forms puddles

then splashes

into them

The birds still call

But the crickets

Are silent,

And my neighbors

Close their storm

Shutters, one after

Another with a screech

And a clank.

No person walks.

No dog barks.

No cat visits

my back door.

The breeze begins

slow from the south

east.

It blows through thick

drops that fall

faster. It blows

the drops until they

no longer fall.

They fly into house

walls and windows.

The breeze becomes

wind,

blowing,

gusting,

barreling through my

ally.

The squall whirls

now, a train-like

roar, rushing past

my house,

a constant vibration,

a mechanical

engine roaring.

Small cogs sit

behind storm screens,

listening to the roar.

The flood reshapes soil,

the gales scouring the land.

The dull roar

becomes a constant,

a drone that buzzes

in the brain,

until

the singular sound

of rain

falling,

splashing

into puddles,

can be heard

again.

II

The typhoon is on us, and like last year, it seems worn and tired by the time it reaches Hachioji. The winds are only fifty miles per hour. Rains fall and winds blow, to be sure, but aside from the racket, I am dry and safe in  my apartment.

I quickly learned how to shut my storm shutters, though. It took some finesse, but soon I slid the metal panels, one-by-one across my eight foot expanse of patio door glass. Breaking glass is a real concern because objects fly in the blowing winds.

The sounds outside dimmed immediately, and the entire process took less than ten minutes. (Hey! It was my first time!) My hands felt dusty, but not grimy, which was a surprise.

I sleep with earplugs, so the storm raging outside was reduced to a gentle murmur, and I slept peacefully through the night.

I’ve opened the storm doors this morning, but even as I sit here in the dim morning light listening to the rain, the winds grow stronger and louder, and I wonder if I should have left the shutters closed a bit longer!

Apparently the storm is not finished with us yet.

III

I hiked to campus in roads that have become rivers. My umbrella almost blew inside out, then out of my hands, but I hung on. The drips from my umbrella soaked my backpack, and the horizontal rain soaked my pants, but my new rubber boots and my gore tex jacket kept my feet and torso dry. My umbrella began to leak, so I wore my hood up.

There was one student on campus waiting for us, and later two more showed up. I only have Wifi on campus, so one by one, students started checking in, letting me know they were alive and well.

The typhoon gave one last burst at noon, with “death-to-umbrella” gusts, and bursts of rain, but by 1:00 pm, the skies were blue and the temperatures shot up to the mid-seventies. The humidity shot up too, but at least the storm has passed.

It’s like we had two days. One that began cool, dark, and stormy, and another day of blue sky, gentle breezes, and warm sunshine, not bad, Hachioji!

P.S.

Angry wind blows rain

against my window. I wait

for calm to return.