Weather Worries

     Jackie Troop had been the library secretary, laminator queen, and general go-to person on the staff at Summit Valley Elementary School, so when I heard about her retirement celebration I was quick to sign up. On Thursday I attended the dinner at Shady Maple. It was great to see so many old friends from my days as principal there. I have kept in touch with a few of them, but this was Nostalgia Nirvana!
     One of the best things was seeing the way the staff still supports each other. There was a pervasive spirit of camaraderie and good will, and the two retiring staff members were key to this nurturing climate. I remembered how remarkable the district was and was glad I had worked there. Gratitude settled into my bones once again.
     It was still light when I left the building. I'd parked in the farthest corner of the most distant parking lot, and as I walked to the car I noticed a dark cloud covering most of the sky. I could see the edge of it. I felt the wind pick up and wondered if it would rain. I hurried as quickly as I could in the sandals I hadn't worn since last summer.
     By the time I reached the light at Rt. 322, wind was whipping the trees and blowing small bits of detritus across the road. I drove for a few more miles. The wind became stronger. It blew a dense cloud of dirt and pebbles which covered perhaps fifty yards of roadway and I had to brake so I could see where I was going. Road signs wobbled wildly. Sticks the diameter of my wrist and arm were scattered on the road and I had to steer carefully to avoid them.
     I noticed that the edge of the front paralleled my line of travel.
     Weather has been in the news lately, and not in a good way. Tornado season arrived with a vengeance this year. I was aware of storms that had devastated Tuscaloosa, Alabama and Joplin, Missouri. I scanned the sky for funnel clouds. I began to worry.
     As I drove the last miles on 322, my imagination took flight. Those wobbling signs became potential agents of death. If the winds could drive a straw through plate glass, broken signs could become flying scimitars, slicing through the car (and me). I concentrated on steering, dodging road trash, and breathing. The twenty-minute trip seemed to last forever.
     At last I arrived home. Home! Still no rain, and the edge of the front was behind me. Thanks be to God!
     Tom is accustomed to imagining the worst case scenario in everyday events. He is adamant about putting small cargo on the floor of the back seat instead of in the hatchback, where it could "become a projectile in case of an accident." I understand that, though sometimes I need to be reminded of it. When I described the trip and my relief at my safe arrival, his comment was, "You have a vivid imagination."
     Don't we all?