Waiting for Irma – and then She came

Sunday:  12:00    White bean soup is in the crock pot.  Bread is rising on the counter.  I’ve moved all the small pots, put the ferns up against the house and made sure there is plenty of gas for the grill. But I know that whatever happens with the electricity, I am already powerless before this storm.   I do what I can do, except, as the governor of Florida suggested, pray. So I go outside, where it is warm and breezy and wonderfully pleasant and pray that my trees will stay firm, that no one will be hurt, that this storm will pass us by.

My frenzy to do something to prepare is a symbol of the power of the storm.  Right now it is hundreds of miles away.  But “they” say that it can still make a sizable impact.  I can’t help but tune in periodically to hear what “they” are saying now.  What’s happening?  Is it as bad as “they” had predicted?

Sunday 2:00  They’ve cancelled schools in Atlanta for tomorrow.  No one really knows for sure what will happen but obviously, the school superintendent is nervous. Oh boy, does this mean that I get the grandkids all day tomorrow?  Just in case, I haul out the box of crafts.  Or maybe we’ll make blueberry pies instead …..Decisions, decisions…

Monday 10:00 A.M.  Kids are with their parents.  Everything in the city has been cancelled.  When it is calm, I think, “this is ridiculous, nothing’s going to happen.”  When the wind gusts and the rain picks up, I think, “yikes!” and scurry to the only room in the house without windows.

Monday 2:00  The wind is definitely picking up and the rain continues steadily. Branches are down everywhere but nothing major.  I’m already tired of storm fever.  I quit checking the news, I am ready for things to calm down.

Monday 4:00  I’m in the kitchen, Jack is nearby when we hear a thump.  It wasn’t even really loud but we jumped up to look and were horrified to find our hundred year old oak tree on top of our neighbors’ house. One moment it is a source of beauty and pride, the next instant, it is the source of mass destruction. We ran out in the rain and knocked frantically on their door and were relieved beyond words when our neighbor answers.  She and her husband are unhurt but stunned to find a tree in their family room.  They are especially shocked because this is the second time a tree has fallen on this beautiful, gracious house.  They know what the next months will look like.  She is stoic, he is stunned.  They are both already weary.

I stand, tears streaming down my face, feeling incredibly guilty, though I know there was nothing we could have done.  We had kept watch over this particular tree and had an arborist out twice to look at it.  Both times she assured us that the tree was healthy and she could not give us permission to take it down.  Not her fault either.  It’s impossible to tell, apparently, when a tree has a shallow root system, as this one did.

I love and revere nature.  I even named my blog after nature.  But She scares me as well. The fury of the hurricanes of the last month and the terror of the wildfires that are burning near my son’s home in the Columbia River Gorge and my sister’s home in southern Oregon are both stark reminders that Nature is a force to be reckoned with. It is easy to see how primitive cultures believed the wind and the sea were gods and goddesses to be feared, worshipped and placated.  And perhaps there lies the answer, not to revert to a primitive religion, but to treat all parts of Nature with honor and respect, to act as stewards, rather than masters, to do what we can to stop defiling this incredible planet we call home.