Wednesday, April 12, 2006
The Morning After
Yesterday, the wind blew from the south harder and harder all day, portending a stormy night. About midnight a squall line boiled up out of the southwest, the swirling winds whipping fifty foot tall trees back and forth as if they were saplings; yet this morning there is not a cloud in sight, with a blue sky, emerald green grass, and fat robins sitting on the split rail fence. The bees, having ridden out the storm tucked away in their burrows, are nonchalantly buzzing over the patches of blue squill, as if nothing happened last night.
// posted by IBOY @ 6:19 AM 
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Tempered by it's travel over Lake Michigan, your storm is bathing my garden in soft rain all day today.
Much needed moisture, as yesterday I was out with a watering can giving the hellebores a drink.
Much needed moisture, as yesterday I was out with a watering can giving the hellebores a drink.
I left Iowa in 1969 and returned only occasionally, then not at all for several years. In 1995 I had a chance to visit for the first time in more than 10 years. I drove from Chicago to Omaha; as I crossed from Rock Island to Davenport lightning and thunder suddenly tore apart the sky and air around me, on the bridge. Once in Iowa I pulled over and watched, awestruck, as sky and Earth pressed and pushed at each other in an ages-old game, wind and water streaking the glass around me. My childhood in Iowa rushed back to me in a way that only nature could provoke and I thought about pioneers, who saw the richness of this land, then about my father who so loved to garden in Iowa.
Thanks, Don, for a wonderful description of all those storms, of nature and of the heart, that make Iowa quite special!
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Thanks, Don, for a wonderful description of all those storms, of nature and of the heart, that make Iowa quite special!
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