Rockin’ and shudderin’ and blowin’ up a storm. Lightening is flashing across the night sky as a tropical storm sweeps in from the southwest over the low country of the Outer Banks here in North Carolina. Thunder rumbles ominously, continuously. I am in a three-story house built upon stilts, maybe 6×8 stilts, but still stilts. I cling to a narrow strip of sand, not much higher than sea level, sandwiched between the Atlantic and the Pamlico Sound. A minimum of 25 mph winds shake the house. Much stronger gusts roar across the peninsula, the most hurricane-prone strip of land north of Florida. I feel the house sway as winds howl in its eaves and rain pelts the windows. I can easily imagine what it must be like in a hurricane.