Saturday, September 18, 2004
Season of Storms
My mother used to send us to the basement every time the wind blew. I now think it was not for our safety. I now think it was for her private, intimate moments with nature sans chattering daughters.
Mother loved to watch the skies. She'd set a kitchen chair at the front door so she could watch the water tower at the end of Lee Street. She was sure one day she would see lightening strike it. If a tornado warning sounded, we'd be in the basement; she'd be out in the street to catch a better view.
She exposed us to magnificent sunrises, sunsets, and double and triple rainbows. I remember once being dragged out onto the driveway at bedtime to see northern lights that streaked from every compass point on each horizon to a celestial peak right up over our heads, creating a dome of lights that looked more like God's own fingers reaching up over our town. Finger tips lightly touching, gloriously creating a sanctuary, a respite. From the world man had created. An intermission. No eleven o'clock news that night. No Vietnam war, no presidential elections, no scandals, traffic reports, nor infanticides. A suspension. A relief.
Toward the end of her days, I think mother loved the weather channel best of all the cable stations. She kept it on 24/7 and sometimes shushed us to catch a favorite announcer.
So when I watched the news the other day, and poor young expendable reporters fought the hurricane winds and blinding rains just to tell us how it felt to be there, I was grateful. Guess it's in my DNA. It may have looked like a bit on Comedy Central's The Daily Show. Nevertheless, rain was really pelting the weather journalists and blowing them in and out of camera views. They risked life and limb to show us The Mighty Presence. With hurricanes, tornados, earthquakes, and mudslides just in our part of the world, there is indeed a Mighty Presence intent upon making itself known.
All the bickering we do on this planet will abruptly be brought into perspective in the next few years if our weather patterns are really taking a dramatic turn. Remember the Ice Age? This may not be just the earth combing its hair and loofaing off its dry skin. This may be the start of earth's total make-over.
My mother used to send us to the basement every time the wind blew. I now think it was not for our safety. I now think it was for her private, intimate moments with nature sans chattering daughters.
Mother loved to watch the skies. She'd set a kitchen chair at the front door so she could watch the water tower at the end of Lee Street. She was sure one day she would see lightening strike it. If a tornado warning sounded, we'd be in the basement; she'd be out in the street to catch a better view.
She exposed us to magnificent sunrises, sunsets, and double and triple rainbows. I remember once being dragged out onto the driveway at bedtime to see northern lights that streaked from every compass point on each horizon to a celestial peak right up over our heads, creating a dome of lights that looked more like God's own fingers reaching up over our town. Finger tips lightly touching, gloriously creating a sanctuary, a respite. From the world man had created. An intermission. No eleven o'clock news that night. No Vietnam war, no presidential elections, no scandals, traffic reports, nor infanticides. A suspension. A relief.
Toward the end of her days, I think mother loved the weather channel best of all the cable stations. She kept it on 24/7 and sometimes shushed us to catch a favorite announcer.
So when I watched the news the other day, and poor young expendable reporters fought the hurricane winds and blinding rains just to tell us how it felt to be there, I was grateful. Guess it's in my DNA. It may have looked like a bit on Comedy Central's The Daily Show. Nevertheless, rain was really pelting the weather journalists and blowing them in and out of camera views. They risked life and limb to show us The Mighty Presence. With hurricanes, tornados, earthquakes, and mudslides just in our part of the world, there is indeed a Mighty Presence intent upon making itself known.
All the bickering we do on this planet will abruptly be brought into perspective in the next few years if our weather patterns are really taking a dramatic turn. Remember the Ice Age? This may not be just the earth combing its hair and loofaing off its dry skin. This may be the start of earth's total make-over.
