Tornado Warning

A sound like a freight train races through the sky directly overhead. I lie in my bed and contemplate the choice I have made to not make haste for the basement. The weatherman predicted that this storm would be devastating, even for the City of Pleasant Grove, but it is not the first storm event I have ever been a part of, and oftentimes the warnings pass without a tornado ever touching down.

But I am lying in bed, and suddenly the noise makes my heart pound, and I am immobilized by fear. It is absolutely terrifying to listen to the deafening sound of nature at its most destructive, realizing I cannot stop it. My daughter went to the basement - the safe place, but I begin to wonder if there is such a thing. There is no shield big enough to protect everyone and everything from toppled trees, flying debris, and razed houses and various other buildings.

Afterwards, the silence makes the noise of the previous moments seem magnified - louder, sadder, fiercer, and somehow more hollow, distinct, and desolate. And then there is the noise of adrenaline induced chatter from the neighbors creeping outside. Everyone is looking for damage, for death. Everyone is praying to find signs of life. "I'm okay; are you okay" becomes the constant refrain. For many of the people in Highland Forest, there is minimal damage. It could have been much worse. It is much worse for others. I turn the corner and no longer recognize my surroundings. I feel as though I have left my homeland and entered someplace completely different. Some place war torn, ravaged.

Tomorrow the weather is supposed to be beautiful, but that is the thing about a tornado. It rages through, causes mass destruction, and leaves an eerie desolation and blue skies in its wake. But a sobering feeling lingers, along with the sound of destruction, along with the knowledge that I am lucky this time. I have been spared.