Waiting for the storm next time
On Sunday the skies were clear, the winds had eased and the waterfowl had resumed their patrol of the East River shoreline, pecking in the sand for tiny bites to eat or diving crazily into the surf for heartier fare. Downtown residents, meanwhile, had resumed their routines of biking or jogging or fishing or tai chi along the East River Esplanade, relieved that Hurricane Joaquin was finally roaring out to sea and not aiming at us. Count me among them. Because despite what the