AFTER THE STORM---5-25-11

Post #701   A Fresh New Beginning.

This is a painting of flowers.   It is also how the local weather map looked for hours and hours yesterday, from the first wail of the local siren at 10 a.m., until after I finally gave up my firm grip on watching about midnight.  

The concentration of the whole world into that screen of red and orange and yellow, fuming and swirling its way across the country, through Missouri, through Illinois, across the Terre Haute border, and reaching its threatening hulk top to toe of the state---that occupied my whole day yesterday, through the loads of laundry, the little common chores which blinked my eyes from the screen only to match socks, set washer and dryer, fill the kettle for tea.    The dishes remained in the sink, the dog unwalked, the day furtively and anxiously eyed from the safety of the back door.

And as the day darkened, with Chris some fifty miles west on a service call, and directly in the path of whatever-was-coming, and our Sweetpea almost that far north for a sleepover, along with DS and DDIL’s trips from work and Caro’s twilight venture out to GET to work---my heart was in so many places and my concentration centered on that vivid, primary-color screen.    I don't think I uttered a word all day except for checking-up-on phone calls and fervent prayers.

The talk and the talk and the talk, the reports and the pictures and the skies with the dips and whirls of funnel clouds---with the new knowledge that the cloud-point is not ALL the storm---a whirl of debris from the ground indicates that the winds have touched down, even though the spiral is still nippled small on  the cloud, with only air (literally) visible between.    A cell-phoned-in handful of ping-pong hail, more talk of baseball-sized to come, but my two-years-ago loss of the hosta bed to the dime-sized stuff receded to nothing in the facing of such an angry sky---the day was tense.

There was destruction, there were roofs blown away, quite a few homes demolished down in Bedford, and the miracle of just a few injuries in tossed-about mobile homes.    An overturned eighteen-wheeler was sucked into the vortex stem-to-stern in bits and pieces like Dyson-grabbed confetti, with the driver only slightly injured.

And there were no storm deaths in Indiana.   Despite the immense threats and the horrifying colors and outlook and predictions---property was destroyed, but no lives were lost.  

And I feel as if I’ve witnessed a miracle, and I’m giving great thanks for that all day.
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And apropos of the New Beginning topic:   I'm so very glad to know that Elizabeth Smart faced down that unspeakable rapist in court yesterday, with the grace and ease of the strong, confident young woman she is.   She did walk out of the fire, and the only thing she said to him as sat there in chains, whining into his filthy beard, was to speak of looking forward to her own beautiful future.  

  Brava.   Prayers Answered, Justice Done.