KATRINA-the northern version

What has this got to do with life at Tangled Oaks? Only that a similar situation developed here this past summer. And the similarities, while they might seem far fetched, should hit home. Last summer our region was hit with several rounds of violent weather. Thunderstorms lived up to the forecasts and hit us several times. They hit us HARD! I personally have always loved storms, and I sat out in the end of the garage to watch them. Because it was during the daytime, it was too light to see the flashes of lightning. Instead I would only hear the crashes of thunder that followed. One particular bolt hit the unidentified tree right next to the end of the driveway. It sent a large piece of the tree sailing right past me. I thought initially that it was going to land right in the garage! But instead it kept going past the garage until it finally stopped just past the paved turn-around. At last it came to rest still partly attached to the trunk. Half of the tree was now missing vertically, as if someone took a huge axe and cut from the top down. When the storm finally passed over, I could inspect the damage it had done. There were two huge limbs that had been severed and a myriad of smaller pieces that lay in a disorganized heap along side. When my husband came out later, he pointed out the black marks which showed that it had been struck by lightning. If I had been closer to the tree, I could have been struck!

Next morning, I came out to look more closely at the damage. There were two big, heavy limbs hanging off the trunk and many smaller pieces of wood piled haphazardly all around. It meant a major cleanup was required. From my Hoveround™ I could begin gathering those sticks to be used next winter in the fireplace as kindling. But I couldn't budge the large pieces. They would have to be sawed off. Right about that time a neighbor's black lab came bouncing into the yard. As usual, Skittles and Patches bounced over to greet her. Also as usual, the owner and I fell into conversation about the previous day's thunderstorm. I showed him the limbs that had been struck by the bolt of lightning and mentioned that what was needed was a chain saw to cut it off the rest of the way. I went on to tell him that we indeed HAD a chain saw but that it had been used by my daughter's boyfriend years ago and really hadn't worked since. My neighbor said that he rather liked to "tinker with things", and would take a look at it. So he took the chainsaw home with him to look it over.

The very next day, I heard a strange buzzing noise outside the house. When I went out to look, there was my neighbor with HIS OWN chainsaw, busily cutting down the wayward limbs. He knew that my plan was to use that wood in our fireplace during the winter, so he cut the wood in lengths suitable for that purpose. I was overwhelmed with surprise and gratitude. Now my job would be to gather up the wood, stack it and cover it, which I began the following day. As I got closer to the bottom of the stack, I noticed a small dark object on the ground. Closer inspection led me to believe that it had been a nest. A NEST! Some poor bird had made a home in the dense branches, and now that home was gone!

Every day for months-even years-I had watched Mourning Doves gather on the wire between areas of the property. I counted them and called them my "Dozen Doves". They preferred the dense branches of the mystery trees, although I watched as a determined mother squeezed herself into a nest made in Arbor Vitae behind the bathroom. Anyhow, when I looked at that nest I realized that there was no way to put it back into the tree. There wasn't even the tree left. I remembered my own childhood in elementary school when each week the class would have "Show and Tell". Kids whose parents went places had no problem; they could bring in coconut shells from their trip to Hawaii, flippers from their diving lessons, or baby hamsters from the mating of their pair. What did I have? Acorns from our oak trees. Wowee. I would have liked to bring in the finished product-the oak tree-but it was rather large and hard to carry.