Fickle Fay

A few days ago, as I reported, after Tropical Storm Fay came into being somewhere near Cuba, the forecasting maps had it taking an unusual, arrow-straight course due north, which would have landed it in this all-important mid-Atlantic navel of the country, bringing with it some much needed rain.

Instead, after making landfall in southwestern Florida, Fay veered a little to the northeast, which would have taken it out into the Atlantic and the usual oblivion there. But now the forecasting maps have it turning again, sharply, in the due west direction, along the upper Gulf Coast, headed toward Louisiana and Texas, where nobody here in Virginia lives and that usually get more than their share of the valuable storm waters anyway.

But, naturally, despite the title of this post, this isn't the fault of the storm itself. Instead it's all because of weather forecasters and vain hopes.

And speaking of hope, the good thing about it is that it never runs out.

So maybe there's a chance yet that the storm, after checking out the slots in Biloxi and seeing how in New Orleans the rich have got their fingers in the pockets of the poor, if I remember a line from Leonard Cohen correctly, the storm will take yet another sharp 90-degree turn but this time to its right, and, sliding up along the Appalachian slopes, head for certain this time in the right direction.