My friend Wendy Sue wrote this description of the storm that blew through the Dallas-Fort Worth area the other night and I thought it was so perfect I decided to share it!


The wind has been howling for hours, shoving the leaves around in the massive, thick tree across the street, beating the tall bushes outside my windows until their branches slap the panes. I find the sound endless, peaceful, calming. I don't think I've spoken a word aloud for several hours. Funny to think about that. Tropical storm Bill attacked Dallas like an arrow hitting a bullseye, moving slowly, slowly through its whirling meterological dance way, way, way up in the sky. Rain fell torrentially, as the sewers raced madly to keep up with the endless flow of water that threatened to overrun them and, in many cases, did. As I drove through the area today, one appointment to the next, the rain hit the windshield in huge drops for a mile or so and then would stop, as if it were considering its next move. The next minute, I'd be back in a downpour. 

Once back home again, tired tired tired, I would hear random thuds and banging sounds outside. When awake, I would anxiously go from the front door to the back, occasionally stepping out barefooted to rescue a drowning potted plant or a runaway hutch for my garden hose.

For a while now--I don't know how long--I slept on Big Red, I watched a little TV---all that remains is the wind, as the long, long tail of the storm makes one more circular pass over us, like a massive, unseen monster that imprints itself at will and then ambles away without fear. Perhaps it will rain again. I just don't know. This is a very strange area I live in, way down south, so near the Gulf of Mexico.