Uprooted, Part One: Thoughts after a storm

“Vulnerability is the underlying, ever present and abiding undercurrent of our natural state.” - David Whyte

I didn’t hear the trees falling during the night because the winds were too loud. 

In the morning I wondered how I could have missed the sounds of them being beat up: pushed over, snapped, cracked or downed. 

I walked around and saw trees on the ground, roots ripped out and exposed. It made me want to cover them up or look away. 

I saw trees whose falls were interrupted; dangling and snarled, stacked perilously, or caught in the act of crushing something below.

I also saw trees left more like trunks than trees; bent and broken, their insides showing…bright against their bark. 

They all looked like crime scenes to me; crime scenes with the same “whodunnit”.

The wind did it.  It sure did it. 

The rain and wind storm that whipped through the backyard whipped through the region and left thousands of miles of trees and assorted projectiles stuck in awkward positions, and hundreds of thousands of people without power. 

The power returned, but I had a hard time shaking the feeling of being powerless. 

Not powerless in the sense of being without lights, but powerless in the shadow of wondering, "how could that happen?

I thought trees were stronger. I thought their roots were deeper. I thought they’d be here longer than me!"

Seeing mighty giants gutted and fallen like the big maples in Deering Oaks Park in Portland gave me even greater pause:

"If they’re not as strong as I thought, what else isn’t as strong as I think? 

What if my assumptions aren’t as strong as I think?

What if everything’s more vulnerable than I think?

Do I need to rethink things? "

In Uprooted, Part Two, the trees “respond!” 

In the meantime, how did you feel about this storm (or other storms you’ve experienced)?