Friday, May 8, was an unusual morning. We planned on some rain. I’d been paying the price of an encounter with poison ivy.
But, the storms came into the country from the west and wreaked severe damage. I understand the need for nature. I watch those African reports where they show wild animals doing uncivilized things to one another under the gaze of nature. I am not a tree hugger. I believe that a tree is a plant which will either be harvested by man, the responsible party or by nature through disease, bugs, fire, etc.
But, the vision of what nature can do in what appears to be a weathery tantrum, otherwise known as tornado is so saddening and appalling.
While people were injured and killed in the tantrum. While their homes and lively hoods were twisted and blasted away. While the winds ripped and tore, the massive trees that have stood beautiful sentry watch for hundreds of years were swept as twigs before the storm. Suddenly, without warning, they were changed from oxygen producing shelters of wonder to shambles.
I just have a hard time understanding how nature could turn on herself this way and ruin these wonderful trees. It doesn’t fit my softy belief system. There will be very little useful gain from these toppled trees except for the microbial decay that comes as their mouldering carcasses turn to dust on the forest floor. Some of the rubble must be burned to make room for the people as they come back into the land. True, some will be carried away to chippers to become mulch and dust in a more useful manner.
And, time will begin to move forward toward the next hundreds of years when the little baby oaks just in their second leaf stage have grown to stand sentry and provide shelter, air cleansing and amazing beauty. Nature is part of time, grinding the grist fine and tight. Makes us believe, if nothing else, that we are specks on the face of time.
The storms passed. People moved in to clear the rubble. The next days were balmy, chilly, rainy, and then balmy again. The weather people tell us it is coming again in a couple days. We will hunker down, humbled and saddened, then go back out to clear away the rubble again.