Yesterday a powerful windstorm hit the Pacific Northwest.
Four people died because of it. Property losses from falling
trees and mudslides is substantial, and several major highways
are closed. Power companies are scrambling to restore electrical
service throughout the region. So I feel fortunate: here in the
southern end of Oregon’s Willamette Valley the storm was
relatively sparing, and though power was interrupted lives
weren’t lost. Our house went dark shortly before 8 p.m., and
instead of a CSI rerun at 9:00 I put an extra piece of fir in the
woodstove and went to bed.

And…of course…as I was in town purchasing a 20-pound bag
of ice and several gallons of water today, the lights came back on.

We’ve had bouts of brutish weather before, snow and ice mostly,
when we heated soup on the stove and broke ice in watering troughs,
but these are infrequent and we tend to forget them. Perhaps an
occasional wake up is a good idea, a reminder that down here
Nature Bats Last.


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