Thinking back a few years, living in Houston, I remember Hurricane Ike. I was ready for it but my husband was not.
When the wind reached a screaming pitch with the trees snapping and threshing, the horizontal streaming rain, flying roof shingles and destroyed fences, as well as the unnerving sound-levels, my husband was rooted to the spot. He stared and stared through the glass of the window. Immovable, with his nose pressed to the windowpane, the stark fear in his eyes will stay with me forever.
Fortunately, as the eye of the storm arrived and the winds temporarily lessened, I was able to open the door and let him in.