I still don't have power, and the word on the street — where the street is defined as a acquaintance's father who works for FPL — is that I might not get electricity back until December. I am so very terribly tired of all this, but I don't feel as though I have a right to complain, compared to others here. This region is still seriously fucked up.

Other than the godawful traffic, for most residents of the area life has returned to normal. When I speak to co-workers and mention that I still don't have power, they are aghast, as if I casually mentioned having some archaic disease long thought eradicated. For the people in the powered enclaves, there is only the lingering annoyance of landscaping bills and trash removal, but everything else is business as usual.

But there are people who had been living in their non-powered homes until the rains came this week, when it became obvious there wasn't enough roof left to protect their families. Entire apartment buildings are being condemned, and there's no temporary housing available for the tenants. The lack of power to run the water system has caused raw sewage to back up into streets, parking lots, and homes in some areas. There are still 166,100 people in Miami-Dade county without electricity. And many, many people have lost their jobs as their employers have gone out of business while waiting for services t return.

Wilma's effects are sneaky. There wasn't the widespread destruction of a Hugo, Katrina, or Andrew, with panoramic vistas of flattened suburbs or flooded landmarks. The devastation in South Florida is more personal, and less telegenic. Our infrastructure failed, largely due to inadequate preparations. The people failed to take their own precautions. And placed beside the scarring images of the downfall of a major American city, it looks as though nothing happened here at all.

But something did, and we'll be feeling its effects for years to come. And just in case you might have forgotten, this was only a Category One storm.