"But it wasn't a dream. It was a place. And you, and you, and you, and you were there."
Last night, sometime during the 6:00 hour, a storm blew in from out of nowhere. I'm not sure what to call it. It was a tornado without the circulation, a hurricane without the ocean... it was a storm from hell. Straight-line 80 to 100 mph winds that peeled roofs off of houses like sardine cans, thunder that shook the house like a series of earthquakes, trees falling down all around, or uprooted, terrifying lightening strikes, torrential rain, flash flooding, and fires. And that was just in our little neighborhood. We were without power for over five hours. Sirens screamed all night. It was like a war zone. Some neighborhoods still are without power.
Across the street is a huge sycamore tree. It has to be at least 80 years old. I love that tree and I look at it every day from my window. There is now more of it on the ground than, well, in the tree. Four giant branches came down as I watched, just ripped off by the wind—it was unreal. All of our trees lost branches and our yard and drive are covered with debris.
After the storm passed, everyone came outside to assess the damage and the neighborhood men (my sons included) worked together to clear our street so that emergency vehicles could pass. For a while the entire corner was blocked. It's still a huge mess. Everyone's in shock. No one knows what to do. The trees need to be cleaned up, but what do you do with limbs that are as large as a house? I'm beginning to hear chainsaws outside and our landlord is trying to remove parts of the old tree by dragging them with his pickup.
What a week. Today, all I ask is for a Nothing day. No plumbing backing up, no computers breaking down, no apartment complexes on fire, no emotional outbreaks, no life-threatening weather. Just... nothing.