Storm

Every now and then I turn my head and look out the window, watching the trees waving in the wind, shaking, bending over, some of them willingly touching the ground like slaves of the wind. One snapped and broke in two pieces. I'm surprised that the wind is strong enough to break a tree in two, yet it hasn't stripped the trees of their leaves.

I fell asleep, listening to this sound. The rumbling of the wind across the roof, the wind shaking the trees, sometimes it actually sounds like waves slamming onto the beach. I imagine the wind as a huge hand lightly grasping at the roof, stroking it, threatening to pull it off and send it flying, leaving me with the perfect view of the dark sky and all my hope blown away with the wind.

But it doesn't. And I fall asleep as I'm being taken back in time, back to the storm I was afraid was returning this night.
Roofs blown off buildings, wires on the streets, burst dams and floods. I remember seing fields, that once was a small, growing forest. All trees broke in half and it reminds me of a field of crops that has just been harvested - except the crops were only cut in half and never picked up and this is in supersize.
All the trees are on their knees, dying.
A mallroof collapsing, the relocation of a churh roof.

Will that be what I wake up to?

It's still storming when I wake up, but the roof seems intact, at least I don't see the sky. Something flies by the window, looked like paper, other than the one tree the rest seems fine, unfortunately I can't say that about the garage door which has been ripped out of its hinges and is now lying on the ground, only a few feet from the car.

The first storm of the fall, I have a feeling this fall won't be boring.

I guess one advantage to living where I live is that usually the weather doesn't get very extreme.

Photo: Storm December 1999. by: Arne Rasmussen