My policeman neighbor drives down the street, on his way to work this morning. Another neighbor, farther up the hill, drives past my window. What do they think about, these friends, these people who briefly appear in my field of vision? Do they face internal storms? Are they worried or excited or happy or sad?
In West Virginia, floods have taken lives and disrupted the normalcy of the day. In California, wildfires are raging, threatening people, livestock, and forest animals. Storms are all around us, invisible and visible, and yet we persevere.
A typical greeting when we meet someone is, “How are you?” Usually, the answer is, “Fine. Couldn’t be better.” But, how are we, really? Do we hurt? Are we troubled or wearied or basking in the sunshine of an accomplishment? 
Under the veneer of routine, or doing what is expected of us, or shouldering responsibilities, what is going on? Maybe if we knew all these secret storms of people we meet, it would overwhelm us. Maybe familiarity of accepted behavior is a hedge against the bad things in life. Yet, when I ask, “How are you,” I wonder if the answer is an honest one.
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