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The Mothers of Ukraine

on March 05, 2014

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The Multisensory Experience Of A Hurricane

I saw: the darkest of any dark sky I have ever known. daylight finally filtering through a fine mist. trees thrown like Lincoln Logs, but none on the house or on my car. two porch columns in the bushes. faces filled with disbelief. no way in or out. disappearing bars of phone signal. I heard: the bedroom fan stop at 2:37am. my heart beating in my ears. unidentifiable sounds..."Eric? Is that the shed door banging the front of my car?" the fear in my own voice..."Eric? Should we get in the closet, now?" the riotous, unbridled, violent wind. the silence in the middle. chainsaws roaring to life. "Eric, please be careful. The ambulance cannot get to us." the whine of legions of displaced mosquitos on the hunt. I smelled: SO...MUCH...PINE. that after storm scent...but more intense...petrichor. gasoline for ravenous generators. pounds and pounds of sawdust. sunscreen...no time to waste on nursing a sunburn. myself...musty, swampy, adrenaline and frustration fuele...

#toombsstrong

In case you missed it, my small town neck of the southern woods got absolutely hammered by Hurricane Helene on Friday, September 27. I've never been through an actual hurricane. We've been on the front end of a couple of strong tropical storms since returning to this area at the end of 2013. When we lived here from 1997-2005, we never had this kind of action. This past May, there was a tornado that paid us a visit. But a full on hurricane...nope. I'm from Michigan. No sharks, no jellyfish, no hurricanes. As much as I enjoy visiting Florida, the hurricanes and wildlife are enough to keep me on visitor status. But here I am...a resident of the State of Georgia...an INLAND resident of the State of Georgia...and I have been there and done that with a Category 1 hurricane! Helene the Hellion's romp through our sweet, small town happened in the wee hours of that Friday morning...under the cover of THE darkest night I have ever seen. Mr. Snark said the darkest dark he'...

Reflections of Helene

I just swept this floor but with every open door, crunchy dry leaves blow in. Helene came and went, full of fury and hell bent, to wipe us clean off the map. Trees in the yard and trees in the street-- roots exposed like gnarly old feet. We woke to a nightmare. The morning revealed a wound too deep to feel. All of us literally shook. The chainsaw chorus began to sing. Branches and limbs felt the sting of metal teeth ready to eat. Streets were cleared. Through new spaces daylight leered. Where do we even start? We love our own where the onions are grown and we quickly got to work. Resources shared and hot meals prepared-- on grills in the church yards. By truck and by plane came relief for our pain. Time to exhale...just a little. And so... I WILL sweep my floor because I CAN open my door and be thankful for the mercy of God.

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The Mothers of Ukraine

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