Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Last night the thunder crashed, the lightning flashed, the wind roared, and the weather radio pierced our sleep every 20 minutes or so with another severe weather warning. There were even a couple of tornado warnings in our county. For three hours this went on disturbing our much needed rest. This morning we found the earth swimming. Water is everywhere, even in the chickens' feeding station, which is covered and stays dry during most storms, and the piney forest is in tatters from the wind and rain. The woods has been quiet out here for the past several days--quieter than usual with a brooding silence that got on my nerves, but was a welcome relief to my dear husband, whose ears are daily assaulted with the incessant noise pollution of the city. This morning the quiet feels like the relief after an exhausting struggle. Not a breeze blows the dripping and tattered leaves left dangling on the trees. It's warm out, warm enough to bring out the critters and creepy crawlies that will keep my chickens happily scratching all day. But this will soon change to freezing temperatures and bring "snow flurries" after midnight tonight and possibly tomorrow, too. I expect to see a flake or two floating in the air. The water in the ground and on the streets will freeze early tomorrow morning and tomorrow night, and "winter" will be back again. We'll have a cozy fire in our heating stove, and snuggle and bask in its warmth. Such is "winter" down here in the deep South--never really winter for long, because Spring can never wait her turn, but comes in snatches, loosening winter's icy grip and stealing the earth's rest as the storm steals ours.