the calm after the storm.......

There is one thing you can be sure about tornados~ they are random, sneaky and deadly. Everything else is pure science, and there are many explanations as to how they develop. It is with this knowledge that we face the winds, hail and that ever present "train coming through the backyard" noise. Luckily we have doppler radar and the latest technology used by our meteorologists to keep us informed of any impending storms heading our way.... and if you live in an area that is prone to this type of wrath, a local town siren. It's very wailing makes you drop in your tracks, look up to the sky, and then shake you to your senses to find cover immediately.

We didn't have that chance early Saturday morning, as the storms that inched across the plains, and into Georgia, didn't arrive in our area until 4 AM. There would be no looking to the skies, because it was still dark outside. And for some reason, the sirens never went off. My son must have a built in "animal instinct" to the barometer sometimes (on the days I'm caught off guard), as he awoke to the rains that pounded on our open windows, turned on the TV, and noticed that the map they were showing was our area covered in bright hues of red, and cute little lightening icons. I was fast asleep, and never heard or felt a thing. He came into my room, nicely jolted me awake, and proceeded to tell me that he thought we might need to take a trip down to the basement. Luckily, we were never in any immediate danger, and there were never any "trains" coming through the yard, nor any accompanying hail; so we sat and watched the development on TV. As soon as it crossed the area, the winds subsided, and within a few hours, the sun came up. It was time to assess the damage.

Never hearing any cracks of limbs falling with a loud thud on the ground, I knew we only would have seen blown leaves strewn across the yard, and perhaps a few bird houses down. As it turns out, I didn't even have that trouble. It was as if I our house was in a voided area. Everything was pretty much normal, even if a few hours before the trees were bending sideways while trying ever so hard to stay rooted. Well.... how nice is that? No clean-up, no mess, no limbs to clear. Life truly was good, and all was well. All I would have to do is wait a day for the grass to dry, because it certainly needed another mowing.

Not so true for other parts of the town where an F1 tornado layed a path of snapped pines and uplifted oaks. Damage to roofs in the form of whole tree trunks (that could no longer hold their ground), and roads (that no longer displayed their white seperation lines) was only a mild price to pay for this storm. I have seen worse... but that's still no consolation to the people who will have to live with a tarp over their home for the next few weeks.

On my way to my kitchen to prepare for a birthday party we were catering Saturday night, I was able to witness some of the damage first hand. It wasn't hard to follow the path of where the tornado touched down, as it resembled a drunken giant literally stomping everything down in it's path. It followed no real road, and created a new one through the sparce woods of what wasn't already in the development of new subdivisions. Passing by a church, I saw members with leaf blowers and chainsaws who were in the process of readying their parish for Sunday services. What struck me as odd was the cross on the front lawn shawled in a purple scarf that never lost it's cover. Since I pass this church frequently, I notice it all the time. It was as if this tornado experienced a momentary lapse, then picked up once it passed the path of the bold cross. While street signs dangled twisted in shape, trees snapped mid-length, and leaves littered the area, this one cross maintained it's dignity and shawl. How odd is that? It brings new meaning that God truly does work in mysterious ways. All of this occurred five miles from my home.... far enough away to not be touched by the destruction, but close enough to know that no one is truly out of the path, wherever it deems itself to go.

This is not the first time I've had close encounters with tornados, and have been in several in the past. The first one I experienced was back in 1985. Still being new to the area, I had no idea I was in the middle of one. I had the night off from work, but hubby was busy prepping Easter brunch for a hotel that we both worked at. It wasn't until he called me after it had touched down (to see if I was alright) then explained what all the wind and noise was about, that I knew I had luckily escaped a trip worthy of Dorothy. I did hear the wind, did go to inspect that loud noise I heard outside, and did witness my sliding glass door to the patio bowing in at an odd angle.... but somehow, was not smart enough to connect the dots. There must have been a "guardian angel" who was watching over me that night, or perhaps the saying, "God protects fools and children" was in effect. I was either lucky, or foolish not to know how much danger I was in.

Weather is a funny thing. We all praise the beautiful day with plenty of sunshine and mild temperatures. Soft breezes that roll across the landscape, and bright blue skies with big white puffy clouds are a favorite of everybody. And why not? It confirms our ideas that all is right with our little corner of the world. Occasionally a nice rainstorm washes away the dryness of the air, and unclogs the pollen dusted sills of earth. But the weather has a mind of it's own, and is not always kind in staying mild. It throws earthquakes, blizzards, tsunamis, and the occasional twister at us.... which reminds everyone that no one is safe when it comes to atmospheric shenanigans. We can only do our best to track it with all our new technology and hope that the damage suffered is slight, and loss of life is minimal.

With all the carnage and destruction, there is still one fact that remains about storms of any kind. When they end, and people are allowed to peek past their safe areas, the skies have been cleared and the air takes on a new freshness. I remember my brother telling me once that the nicest skies were the ones he witnessed after a hurricane out at sea, on duty. He had snapped many pictures of it, and his collection was quite impressive. As it turned out, we were to ride out a hurricane together in 1985 when I was up visiting him in Boston. This was my first real "one of these" as well. After it was all over that early evening, we decided to visit our Grandparents, who lived in the next town across the river, for dinner. The setting sun threw on the nicest colors to ends it's busy day, and it was truly obvious that "red sky at night, is sailors delight". It was one of the prettiest sunsets I've ever seen. Looking across his back porch at the city before we left, I saw a silhouetted Boston in black, layered across a canvas of purple, yellow, pink, orange, and the most dominent color of red.
It's was the calm after the storm.