Then the Wind Picked Up
June 09, 2007 - 9:58 a.m.


Huge storm yesterday. I was visiting some parishioners in hospital and just as I left the sky went dark. Wind whipped through trees and a light spray peppered me. No problem.

Then the wind picked up. Twigs started falling from trees and some serious rain from the clouds. You could hear a storm coming. Still, nothing too bad.

Then the wind picked up. Branches now. Serious chunks of wood, hitting the ground, first on my left then my right. Thunder claps and lightening flashes. Rain-soaked all through.

Then the wind picked up. Trees losing half their canopy, massive branches down. Why did I stop to drag a bunch off the street? The rain is starting to hurt when it hits.

Then the wind picked up. For the first time in my life I'm seriously afraid of the weather. There are trees and power lines standing all around me, and a lot of them look ready to go. The rain lashes my back, pounding the breath out of me. I gulp for air, drowning on the sidewalk.

The last three blocks home were easier, since I'd left the tree-lined streets for the downtown buildings. Still, I took them at a brisk pace. When I reached the apartment the lights were off. The landlady stood in the foyer, her children clutching flashlights to escort tenants through dark hallways.

I must have looked pretty funny, a sodden clergyman showing the whites of his eyes. Noah and all that, kids.