Skip to main content

Nature Knocking

Crash!

The wind howled: the house shook, a window shattered, hail pounded the windows as tree branches splintered and flew just inches outside our bedroom's sliding glass door. It was 1:30 a.m. February 1, 2016. Jolted back to our earthly reality we leapt out of bed.

"Oh my God, the giant tree in the back yard has fallen,” Lori shrieked.

When nature comes knocking instantly hundreds of wild uncontrollable thoughts flash through your mind. Do we need to evacuate? What happened? Was there electrical damage? Which tree is it? Are the cats ok? Did it destroy our new deck? Is the roof intact? What about the neighbor’s trees . . . 

In the pitch darkness little did we know that both 40-50 foot Pine trees in our yard had been completely uprooted by the violent storm from the Winter El Nino in Southern California.

We flipped on the light and made our way down the stairs. The cats were nowhere to be found. Glass covered the living room carpet and a cold wind was blowing through the broken window.

“Vacuum the glass, I’ll get the ladder and find something to patch the window.” I said to Lori.

“Ok, I’m scared - what if the other trees come down and crush the house?”

“Don’t know. Let’s go outside to see what’s happened.”

Talk about a charmed life. From our porch, in the darkness, we could see that our entire back yard was littered with trees. Our deck and dividing fence between homes were covered. The largest of the two had fallen between our house and the neighbors to the east.

“Wow! This stuff is really thick.” I stumbled my way through the branches in the pouring rain examining the deck support poles. Out of desperation I grabbed a saw and started cutting my way through the branches closest to the back door.

“Maybe I can relieve some of the stress on the house to prevent more damage.”

“The deck is OK!” I shouted with exasperation. Once I realized the deck was intact I ran back upstairs and cut away the branches pressed against the deck to relieve any pressure.

Next I struggled to make my way to the corner of the house cutting through the dense fallen limbs. The wind and rain pelting me all the while. A limb caught my hand and I dropped the saw. The thick branches enveloped it instantly. Groping in total darkness the saw was gone.

Lori had finished cleaning up the glass. “I’m going back to bed,” she yelled out to me. The storm now at it’s peak.

“Ok, now I need to find something to cover the window.”

After digging around in the garage I found a very large box, measured the window, and cut out a section that was wedged in to keep out the cold and rain.

“Well, that’s all we can do tonight. Might as well go back to bed.” By then it was 3:30 am.

Sleep, not a chance. When nature comes knocking with the ferocity of such a powerful storm you begin to realize the warmth and safety of your bed is uncertain at best.

With the wind still howling, and hail pounding our sliding glass door, we huddled in bed. 

“Have you seen the cats?” I whispered.

“No, they're probably hiding under the bed.”

“What do you think we will find in the morning?”

“Try to go back to sleep, we will see.”

To be continued . . . 

Comments

Most Popular of All Time

Feeling Human Again

In this episode, The Unexpected Thankfulness of Feeling Human Again I’ll be honest with you: My triumphant return from France was not the glamorous homecoming I had imagined. No graceful glide back into routine. No cinematic jet-setter moment where I lift my suitcase off the carousel and wink at life like we’re old pals. Instead? I came home and immediately launched into a two-week performance piece titled The Great American Couch Collapse. My days blurred together in a haze of soup, hot tea, tissues, and desperate negotiations with the universe for just one nostril—one!—to function properly. The living room sofa became my emotional support furniture. And any creative idea that dared tiptoe into my congested brain was gently shown the exit with a firm but courteous, “Not today, friend. Try again later.” When life hits the pause button like that—when you’re exhausted, sick, and mentally unplugged—how do you find your spark again? Somehow, today, I felt it. A tiny shift. A clearing of th...

Patience – the Only First-Class Ticket

In this episode, Why Patience is the Only First-Class Ticket They say travel broadens the mind. After eight days sailing the Rhône with 140 fellow luxury vacationers, I can confirm it also tests patience, calf strength, buffet strategy, and one's tolerance for people furious that France insists on being French. Don't get me wrong—I adored this trip. The river shimmered like liquid optimism. The villages looked hand-painted. The pastries could negotiate world peace. But somewhere between Ship Horn Hello and Bon Voyage, we'd inadvertently boarded a floating behavioral research study disguised as a holiday. Our ship was less a cruise and more a ferry for the Sailors of Status. ⌚ The Wristwatch Wars Some passengers approached relaxation like yogis. Others treated leisure like a final exam with extra credit. I came to believe certain luxury watches emit ultrasonic signals that only their owners can detect. A frequency calibrated to trigger rapid movement toward any line forming...

Up the Rhône

Up the Rhône by Patrick Ball We booked a fine cruise up the Rhône — what a treat! With iPhones, lanyards, and schedules so neat. They promised us peace and a mind that would mend, But each calm beginning had chores at the end! "Now breakfast at seven! At eight, take the view!" At nine, there's a lecture on ' What Tourists Do!' At noon, there's a tasting (you must love the cheese), Then hurry to nap time — as corporate decrees! I followed that plan till my patience ran dry. The Rhône softly chuckled, "Oh my, oh my, my! You've missed half my sparkles, my ripples, my tone— You're busy pretending you've peacefully grown!" So I fired my planner and banished my clock. I tossed my agenda right off the dock! I let the wind tickle my schedule away, and drifted through hours that danced where they may. I chatted with swans, had no notion of when, I'd nibble, or nap, or go roaming again. No Wi-Fi! No meetings! No planning! No fuss! Just me and ...

When a Guitar Chooses You

In this episode - When a Guitar Chooses You — And a Musician Steals the Show. Every so often, something nudges you back into the wide-eyed wonder of being a kid again. It feels like it was just yesterday—for me—June 2, 2023—thanks to a guitar shop, a long drive, and one very talented musician. I finally made the pilgrimage to Norman’s Rare Guitars —the mythical land where famous guitarists roam and ordinary folks (like me) try not to look like we’re hyperventilating. I walked in clutching my humble Squier Strat like a kid carrying his lunchbox to the Oscars. Enter Brandon Soriano, encyclopedic guitar wizard and “Spec Check” champion. Within minutes, he had me test-driving Fender Strats like I was choosing a getaway car.  Just as I settled on an American Ultra Strat , Michael Lemmo—yes, that Lemmo—walked in, the effortlessly cool host of Guitar of the Day . He plugged in the guitar I was thinking about buying . . . and suddenly I wasn’t thinking anymore. “Stevie Ray? He said, "Tr...