I can't think of a title for this

I sat down in front of my hundred year old house and I gazed at the flowers that my grandmother had so carefully nurtured. I've done that on hot days, on wet days, but none of them will ever live up to what the view from my door looks like on a windy day. The world had come alive, just to laugh off a silent complaint that I had registered earlier regarding my world being lifeless. I could not help but laugh with them.
I could hear my 25 year old TV (Yes, I'm the only non-antique in my house) crackling on about how they were predicting a cyclone somewhere and I caught myself wondering what it would be like in the face of one. I ensured that the thought remained within, as my family were already worried about what they perceived as signs of mental instability, when it was just me absentmindedly thinking aloud. A week earlier, I had let slip the first hint that I intended to go on a weeklong trek in the Silent Valley forest reserve, a place that I had fallen in love with during a short visit a couple of months before. We were supposed to trek through the forest armed with just a guide and walk a couple of dozen kilometers a day for almost 4 days, before reaching this river valley that was supposed to be enchantingly beautiful. The response was almost what I had predicted, with stories about people being eaten up by tigers and trampled upon by elephants dominating proceedings with the odd sensible question about whether my knee would hold up. That was one of the problems with having a joint family. They never thought, just arrived at conclusions faster than the person sitting next to them. In the middle of all that they caught me wondering loudly, what it would be like to be face to face with a tiger. It was an honest question. Would I scream and cry for my life? I somehow thought that improbable, not because I rated myself as one of the more courageous ones, but because I just did not rate life that much. Would I just stand there thinking about the last movie I saw? Or would it be the last girl I fancied? Or would I look in to its eyes, trying to find out why it was going to maul me, hoping for an answer a bit more complicated than plain blind hunger? As I snapped out of it, they had already reached their conclusion.
The weekends were a bit hard to fit in, but once the week began and I was left alone again with my grandparents, I could go back in to my world without being questioned, at least not with the same frequency. Most of it was spend on cursing my knee and then laughing at the irony that after years of kicking and barging people, it was a simple twist that had taken me out. There was the occasional visit to College and the rest of the time, I was making up plans like the yet as unfulfilled one where I'm supposed to make wine. I still maintain I'll do it someday.
As I eased back into reality, the wind was still blowing as hard as ever but the sun was losing the race and was showing signs of dying down. I went inside and switched on my PC. Something inside me was making it clear that it would not let me be without writing something, but I had a problem. I couldn't think of a title.