Fiona’s Wake

A mournful wind blew through the trees, and sounded in the chimney like the pedal notes of an organ.— Thomas Hardy

At half past two in the morning, on the twenty-fourth day of September 2022, as I watched from my living room windows, blurred by the rain, branches and trunks were twisted and tossed, thrashing one another, the wood crackling — clacking — and splintering, as summer’s lush greenery caught too much of the wind.

For days, we had been warned of the hurricane, exceeding all others in its force, the forecast had said, but this one was delicately named: Fiona. What could she do? What harm would she bring?

From the Gaelic fionn, meaning white, fair, or beautiful, the name Fiona might also be rooted in the Gaelic fine, designating a vine, as does the Latin vinea, which also resembles, rhythmically, Fiona. Vines flourish, twist, and intertwine with beauty...