The northernmost band of Rita visited St. Louis this morning, stayed a while, dropped some rain, blew gently on some trees, and then went its way. I watched a squirrel outside my window as it came out from under a car and stopped when faced with a small river that flowed down the middle of the road.
He turned about to go back, but then remembered that across the road was the big tree with all the nuts. He turned about again, then again–spinning around in circles pushed by equal needs of food for the winter and what could be a dangerous river for a small little guy like himself.
At some instance, thinking reached a critical point, and he ran back to the car he’d come from, then passed quickly to the car in front of it, to the car in front of that one until the river of water formed from the downflow from the side of our place was passed. Then he crossed the road and on to the sidewalk, up to the tree, and on up.
As Hurricane Rita has demonstrated so very capably, we can’t forecast the weather and expect it follow the forecasts. Storms such as hurricanes will make their own rules, and the most we can hope is to learn as we go. Part of the learning process is adaption: it’s up to us to adapt and live with nature; or not and be pushed aside.