I spoke too soon, and the furies were right there behind the horizon, watching for an opportunity. And last night, all throught the night they tore at the coastline, ravaging the dunes,sending all animals, big and small to take cover. Today, and through the entire weekend they are supposed to hang around, showing their power. There is snow on the roof of my sunroom. At sea level. Snowroom.
We needed the rain. And the snow. And winter.
Today the garden will rest, while I remain indoors and use up those sticks and branches that I've collected around the yard and have not burned. The fireplace will go back to fuel coziness.
I'm watching the flames burn quickly through two boxes of wood and kindling in just one hour. Fortunately, my electricity is working, and the fireplace is not really needed. It is just a prop in a play, to remind us of the days when we couldn't survive without that fire.
Rain and snow and thunder will be the protagonists today, in a play where we can be the audience, comforted by our circumstances.
I wonder how many people will be affected by the other storms hitting our world, storms where people have been the protagonists; storms that were fueled by greed and selfishness and carelessness. None of us can rest.