'When the storms of life are raging'

Morning glories climb the porch stairs. The bright blue hydrangeas are turning deep purple, and brilliant hues of goldenrod are cropping up everywhere.

I hear the waves slowly drifting to shore, gently lapping over rounded stones and shells.

It is a simply lovely September day at the summer place in New England, but my heart is in Florida.

When I was an adolescent, I visited the Sunshine State for the first and last time. We were not lured there by Disney World because it did not exist. No, my parents wanted us to experience the REAL Florida.

I come from a family of adventurers. Before my parents bought the summer place, we spent our vacations discovering America like other average American families. But unfortunately, there was never anything typical about our trips.

My father is a true pioneer, and I would shudder to think what he had planned for us. He loved camping in the wilds and exploring terrain where no man had gone before. He considered pit toilets an amenity.

So we packed up our Ford Econoline camper van, collected two weeks' worth of homework assignments and drove south for three excruciatingly long February days.

Crossing the border, we traced the peninsula, driving down the west coast, and then back up the east.

In the heart of the Everglades, we shared a campsite with poisonous snakes and swam with a crocodile, although we were unaware of its presence until we got out of the water.

It was too cold for the natives, but we swam in the frigid waters off Miami Beach that week.

We drank gallons of orange juice, as well as the waters of the Fountain of Youth in St. Augustine (sadly, they didn't work), and were hopelessly lost for hours in Jacksonville (with no GPS to guide us).

Yet what seemed like just another vacation at the time became a beautiful and unforgettable memory of hospitable folks, orange groves as far as the eye can see, sparkling turquoise waters and countless happy days in the sun.

My heart is heavy as Floridians reel from the onslaught of Hurricane Irma. I am reminded of the hymn by Charles A. Tindley: "When the storms of life are raging, / Stand by me; / When the world is tossing me, / Like a ship upon the sea; / You who rule the wind and water, / Stand by me."