Storm Clouds and Silver Linings
Wednesday, August 31, 2011 at 7:00AM MAD21 By Michelle (Graceful, Faith in the Everyday)
The storm sweeps in suddenly, swaths of torrential rain reeling across the neighbor’s roof as the wind shudders fierce. Into the basement we flee, the boys all a tizzy.
“Do we get cheese? Do we get cheese?” Rowan squeals, and I am puzzled until I remember that the last time the tornado sirens blared, Brad had doled out mozzarella sticks as we piled into the closet beneath the stairs.
But then, as quickly as it gusted in, the storm fizzles to a smattering of raindrops and bolts jagged across dramatic sky, leaving a trail of tree limbs, severed branches and dangling wires in its wake.
The next morning front doors open, and neighbors stand on wet cement in bare feet, arms crossed over chest. We survey the honey locust split in two and marvel that it’s only brushed Martha and Charlie’s place, tearing the gutter from its hinges but leaving the house intact. Todd (the kids refer to him as “that muscley guy”) fires up his chainsaw, and sawdust sprays into the humid morning as Gary drags branches to the curb. We introduce ourselves to neighbors we’ve never even seen before and shake hands awkwardly. Everyone is outdoors – it’s too hot to stay inside without air conditioning.
