The Coming Storm (Raw Bones: Journal Entry 6)
Storms danced all around the late afternoon sky. How unsettled things became. On my left hand was a row of trees, a stand of weary hardwoods. Two or three were triumphant amidst all the bustling vegetation but that was only because of that meticulous pruning. The things were abundant enough to block my view. I could never really tell what was going on. The view straight ahead looked on and on. So clear.
On the right, it appeared as though some great animalistic thing was circling around. If I could have seen it through space I would likely see it looked like a horse shoe of a storm and I stood somewhere in the middle of that formation but the one major difference between a horse shoe and a storm is that one's shape is set and the other is not. So this mouth of a free sky was closing in. Teeth clamping down, all around.
Such spooky stillness set in. Everything seemed to be telling the other things to be silent. To retreat. Head back to the safety of your homes. Do it now! Of course, I found this curiously frightening and intriguing. As a child, nature was just nature–never a thing to be feared. The next safety net was around me at all times.
I was never truly afraid of bugs or anything that lived out of doors. It was never too fearsome except the brooks where the little rock clusters stuck to the rocks themselves. So fascinating.
It was in me now, though, to sense the fear. I felt like a tooth filling in a tin-foil bite. I was home alone with both children. One just a baby and the other only 2. Nothing about our life was as I pictured it to be. Everything was so edgy and raw and cold. Lonely.
Above all? Lonely. I noticed the sounds of the woods because it was my companion. I loved it all but I was not the one in charge. I did not feel the remotest inclination to dominate it. I knew I could not. Not ever.
Natural and rugged beauty abounded everywhere and nothing could or would be controlled. Nothing. No matter how hard I tried.
So when the woods hushed in a very noticeable way, even the leaves clinging to the dried up life on the diseased beech trees hushed, I knew something was amiss. And then it started to roll in. I mean really roll in. The air smelled full of chemical energy. The sun was gone a while, hiding. It was such a massive front.
Every so often, on a day that was less than stellar, I checked outside so many times. Watching for danger. Always. Always. Always. Watching.
Today I stood still more often than not. I just listened.
Silence. Silence. Silence lasting a long long time. More than usual. Long enough for the children to notice their mother acting differently. Mother reacting and communicating with the energy around me on one side of my mind and on the other, feeling afraid of everything around me. Telling myself to fear.
Logic beating the hell out of intuition. Beating it with raw bones.
This voice came at me from a dark place. A wretched place of paranoia and idle gossip. Still, I let it win over. Yet, I started to pray. I started to talk to God about it. I wanted him to take pity on me. He had another idea, I guess.
My husband was working the night shift at the local food factory at this time and I was not experienced in being home alone. I was not comfortable. Neighbours were near but not too near and in a bad storm, I stood no chance had there been a need to escape.
(And all those trees)
I always feared the exit plan. There seemed no rational choices, not really.
Darkness came slowly. Bedtime came about with a mocking sense of relief. My one comfort is that I could put the children to bed a little early without much worry of creating an upset of any kind. An upset would put me over the brink.
So much energy was coming through. It was like I could hear the voices of an angry world coming at me. All around me. Silver knives. Cold steel. Ice forming on the fire. Something very strange was happening and it was happening close to me. Close to these trees. Close to the animals. Insects. Vegetation.
Something was moving over my home, my shack in the woods. My oasis. My children. Me.
As the children drifted off in what seemed like a troubled sleep, the grey darkness came in.
Orange casts shined through grey clouds out of the corners of my eyes. Then the darkness took hold. Then the rains came. The the lights went out. Then the phone.
I was alone in the dark. I was alone with my two small children and I was very afraid.
I stood watch all night long. I never slept. The storm danced around and around our acre, for hours. It would not let go. I felt like we might not survive.
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