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Two nights ago, I used precious battery power to watch Instagram reels in bed. The power was out so the windows were open and the street was lovely and dark with no streetlights. At about midnight I poured myself a glass of cabernet, grabbed two slices of cold pizza, and lay in bed eating and watching more reels.

I made myself sick laughing at silly Instagram reels. When the battery on my phone went into the red, I plugged in a battery pack and watched some more until I was too tired to laugh.

I’m choosing to believe that means things are starting to get better here.

The power is back on at our home, as is the internet. We’re still under a boil water order.

Helene and Milton Could Have Been Worse

But I have a full tank of gas.  Our home is relatively unscathed. That’s more than most people within a mile of me can say right now.

Most importantly, none of us were killed or injured in either storm. Hurricane Helene flooded the lower part of Gulfport, and 25% of us are without homes.

Hurricane Milton didn’t do as much damage to homes and had, fortunately, no storm surge, but it took out our power and water. One woman lost her home and one of her cats in a fire caused by a downed power line.

Those of y’all who have never gone through it may wonder why we live here.  Helene and Milton are the most recent hurricanes to come through. It isn’t always us, but it’s almost always someone in Florida.

I’m ignoring a lot of advice and judgment from non-Floridians or new Floridians on social media. Do I typically get apprehensive about hurricanes? No. Was I more than a little anxious in anticipation of Milton? Yes.

But would I consider leaving Florida? Never. Everywhere has something. Blizzards. Mudslides. Earthquakes. Tornadoes.

Hurricanes are the “something” I know. We’ve done what we reasonably can to ensure our safety, and if the price of living in paradise is a few days without power or internet and having to boil our water before we use it? It’s one I can bear.

During the Storm

As Milton moved closer, I stepped outside my front door and watched the wind.

It was awesome in its power.

The Beauty After the Storm

This is cold comfort to people devastated by the storm, which, admittedly, we were not, but the darkness of a neighborhood without power, and the silence (after the generators power down) is beautiful.

There are stars everywhere.

You can hear more frogs than you typically can in this crowded county.

It’s peaceful.

Moving On

But whether or not we Floridians had no damage, some damage, or complete devastation, we all have one thing in common: As the song goes, we breathe in, we breathe out, we move on.