The weather man said afterward that the storm had 100-mph winds. When that horrible onrushing-train sound that means a tornado arrived and persisted about 7:45 p.m. last night, I took cover in my 5 x 4.5-foot bathroom, with my laptop and phone. That's probably how the Apocalypse will find me: Huddled in the can, not with family photos or a bankbook, but with the tools of my trade.Tornadoes touched down east and north of here, wrecking 100 houses, but no one died. The storm came in darkness and left in darkness, so dawn was everyone's first chance to see the damage. The roaring winds tore off the top of the tallest and oldest cedar on the cliff edge behind my house. This exposed the tree's rosy heartwood, both sad and very beautiful. The brave tree, to its last moment, kept the house safe. Now we must face future storms without it.
1 comment:
That roar, and the silence that follows, will stay in the memory banks. Glad you are safe. Sorry about your glorious tree.
I still mourn the loss of 6 50-year-old trees in the 4/22/11 EF4 that hit us. Nowadays, I must rely on a neighbor's flag to gauge the breeze--remaining trees are too truncated to sway in any but the fiercest of winds.
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