It was bound to happen and it finally did: my first typhoon as a Hong Kong resident.
It seemed alarming at first: a pewter sky over the city foreboding and heavy with rain; the cancellations of trains, boats, and classes; a roommate concerned I get home before the storm develops into a “T8” (though I’m unfamiliar with what that denotes exactly).
But, like most things that deviate from the routine, it’s only temporary. After a night of thunder and rain, relentless winds lashing at our windows and stray foliage flung loudly against the building….it calms by late morning. Gingerly exploring my vantage point from our rooftop….the beautiful fecund serenity of my surroundings gladdens me. An ageing wind audibly moves through the jungle around me, its momentum softening slowly but still rippling along the hillsides.
The expansive garden below that I still haven’t found the perimeter to is in some disarray, which is much like it existed before the storm. I go to investigate. Troves of eclectic miscellanea pepper the grounds, from shopping carts filled with old mirror frames to disused exercise bikes from the 80’s to skateboards with their wheels removed. The multiple koi fish ponds remain as exquisite and tranquil as before.
No, my first storm as a Hong Kong resident wasn’t too bad at all.