Last year when Hurricane Irene was threatening to pillage the east coast, we battened down, packed up and left the family beach house following the hoards out of dodge. It was a surreal series of events, watching the vast storm system move up the coast while listening to the Governor of the State of New Jersey urge everyone to leave the coastal areas as soon as possible. This hurricane did seem to be the big one. I had no problem leaving. I have no doubt that Mother Nature is in charge.
But this time we were spared.
she exercised her prerogative to change her mind.
When we arrived back to the house, there were definite signs Irene had stopped by. Branches, leaves, lawn chairs were strewn about, trees were down and occasional power outages were reported, but we still had a house. A House unscathed. Irene had lifted one of our trees from our tree lawn, and split it in half, and we needed to cut it down.
The stump was a reminder that Irene had come and gone, because Mother Nature had exercised her prerogative to change her mind.
When we returned in the Spring, Mother Nature had exercised her prerogative once again. From one of the roots, she had decided to re-grow the tree. She wasn't finished with it yet.
Although its branches and trunk had been injured and broken, and ultimately amputated, Its root system was strong. It shifted its gears, and decided to continue.
“The death of a dream can in fact serve as the vehicle that endows it with new form, with reinvigorated substance, a fresh flow of ideas, and splendidly revitalized color. In short, the power of a certain kind of dream is such that death need not indicate finality at all but rather signify a metaphysical and metaphorical leap forward.”― Aberjhani, The River of Winged Dreams