A violent storm front shook a lot of the Southeast United States last night. It hit our city around 2:30 AM. I was woken up not by the ominous and endless rumbles of thunder or lightshow going on just outside the windows but by the power flickering on and off, causing the elliptical’s blue display panel to light up repeatedly. I tore myself from bed and ripped the plug from the wall then loped into the  bathroom, which was illuminated by the light reflecting off the storm clouds and the lightning all around. I didn’t figure it’d do any good to reset the alarm clock so I tip-toed to the kitchen and found my cell phone, setting an alarm for 6 AM.

As wind whipped through the tall wavering pine trees that crowd about our house, I peered in on Elliot, who refuses to sleep without the light on. I worried that the power would go out completely and he’d wake up in a panic, crying because it was dark. Isaac slept soundly in his room and the thoughts that kept me awake for the next half hour didn’t matter in regards to him: he’s on the front side of the house. I kept wondering if a tree fell, would it go right through the house? Could it be slowed by the deck railing, which any of the trees would make contact with first, or the newish roof? What if we were just smooshed in our sleep? A tree fell on our house about two years ago during a bout of rain.

Notice its origin. It was on the neighbour’s property but it fell at an angle due to the rain simply drenching and uprooting it. Also, this was no small tree. It only took out a corner of our home then hit the tree in the front yard, a part of it is still hanging onto the other tree; now a dead branch hanging limply, the only remnant of the whole ordeal. I remember hearing the thundering crack of the tree uprooting and the crush of shingles and soffet, then the thud as it came to rest on that other tree. As I lay in the dark, my room lighting up now and then, rain pounding the roof, the deck, I couldn’t help but pray that nothing fell on the house aside from the stray branches I kept hearing.

It is unlike me to wake in the night and think like that. To worry. I worry a lot but only when awake. It was unnerving to me that I could not find sleep easily and today, I pay dearly for the lack of rest.

Storms have an elusive quality to them. Coming in the night, wreaking havoc, then exiting quietly, leaving clear blue skies and cool crisp air in their wake. Today is gorgeous: windy, bright, perfect. Despite my sleepiness, I feel really grand.