This is a log of my experience during Hurricane Ida, from the 29th through the 31st of August 2021
29 August

This journal will serve as a log of some of my experiences during this hurricane. I am writing on paper, as I assume that electricity will not be readily available starting about twelve hours from now. It rained for several hours when I woke, and cleared up maybe at ten or so. I heard some unusual bird chirping that I've never heard before in the late morning. I saw a small patch of blue in the sky.

The winds have been picking up, there is now a near-constant noise blowing through. I've opened my balcony door, which has drastically redued the temperature. My valuables have been moved away from the windwos, and everything that can take a charge is getting one. I still need to cook. Use up my perishables while there is still electricity to cook them. I should consider getting a very small gas grill, I imagine that could be useful beyond emergency scenarios.

I can feel the low pressure. The world is eerie now. I wanted to try to get out for a little walk, but I think I'm better off just camping out at this point. It's already nearly four in the afternoon, and it doesn't feel like much of anything has changed since noon.

I did some cooking, and electricity permitting, I'll do some more.

It's here. Almost half past five, and there has been a light downpour for roughly an hour. My lights have started to flicker. They've never done that before. It felt different from a brownout. Most everything is charged. I remembered to charge my bicycle lights, which I may have needed to do anyway. The charge they have now will definitely last through the next week plus.

Past seven now, frankly not that much to report. The eye looks to be headed this way, though. The pressure changes even within the apartment are pretty remarkable though, it's almost like being on an airplane. Things are beginning to pick up more.

This is a hurricane. The sky is black, the wind is angry. And still, this only feels like a prelude. One thing that's astounding is the smell. The world smells different. Something synthetic, sanitized, brought in on the wind.

I never thought I'd still have power. It's half past nine. The winds are fierce. I poked my body out on the balcony, to bear witness. There is danger in the winds. I had to make sure my very rigid door would not shut me out. Despite the intense and riotous winds, the frogs are eager and active.

I still feel the pressure changes in my ears, increasingly regularly.

It's about ten. No electricity. I've fashioned some reading lights out of some clip-on lights I used for running and various loose pieces of clothes. I think I will try to read a little more and then attempt to sleep. I think the storm is mostly past at this point, now there is only the aftermath.

30 August

I woke to no electricity. I haven't ventured outside, but from my balcony all appears to be disheveled and somewhat damp. I may try to bike over to my folks at some point. Potentially dangerous, but there was not much rain so maybe avoiding downed lines won't be difficult. I think most of the lines between here and there are below-ground anyway.

I am back from visiting my family. The rides there and back were largely without incident. There were several downed power lines, which were a little scary to cross, and my typical path near the park was covered in debris so I took a detour. There were few downed trees, but the world was covered in brush. Everyone is okay, and they even have their power back. My mom had some powerless friends over, who alerted me to the curfew. I wouldn't have known otherwise, even though I was already planning to return before sunset. And I did, it's nearly eight in the evening, the sun is vanishing, and I still have no electricity. My hot water heater is fortunately somehow functioning.

I have not seen blue in the sky since before the storm. Only a wide variety of grey, with occasional showers.

31 August

Late last night the clouds began to clear. There was enough ambient light from people with their electricity restored or with generators that the night sky was only marginally brighter. Venus shone brightly, going in and out as she dipped behind the clouds.

Still no electricity. I can't tell if the outside world is substantially different, but from inside my apartment nothing feels substantially changed. The loudest noise is the humming of several nearby generators. It's a very polluting sound. This ordeal has made me sore and tired. The anxieties of the prelude, followed by a stubborn refusal to move on brought by the lack of power.

After most of a hot day, my electricity has returned. Nearly two whole days without, it's back much sooner than I would have predicted. And with that, this hurricane log comes to its end.