Ordinary Days


It was an ordinary day filled with the ordinary activities of a family surviving a swelling August day.  If allowed, the cries of boredom are almost as satisfying to my mother ears as the cries of “are we there yet?” The overwhelming humidity strangles those within reach and the balmy breeze we desire evades us as the kids pop in and out of the house for ice in their water bottles.

That evening the show begins.  We sit on the three season porch watching streaks of light flash across the darkening sky in a symphony of the Creator’s making.  A rumble here and there.  “Uncle Tom rolling logs”  I was told as a child.  Remembering back, I could never understand how my Uncle Tom could be standing beside me and at the same time, in the heavens rolling logs.  And why did God need logs rolled anyway?

Finally, the rain begins to fall.  The pitter patters soon turn to a steady drone.  We enjoy the lulling rhythm for a bit longer then make our way to bed. A few hours later a loud crack rips me from my slumber.   Darkness and a crash at nearly the same time. “That must have been close!”  Recovering from what feels like a mile high jump, I realize I need a light so I can call the power company.  Of course, the flashlight on the nightstand is dead.  No matter, I maneuver my way with hands stretched out as I try to keep myself from walking into a wall.

Tears fill my eyes as I walk into the living room and I crumple to the ground.  Our majestic pine tree is no longer standing tall a few yards out the window.  I must have screamed because I hear fast footsteps and look up to see Shane standing over me as his robe falls off one arm.  He shines his phone flashlight around assessing the damage. Water pours in, everything is soaked.

I wake with a start.  Was it a dream or wasn’t it?  The whir of the ceiling fan above me tells me the power is on but I must go to be sure.  I hear the rain bounce off the bathroom vent as I walk by.  I force myself to breathe as I enter the living room.  Walking toward the window I see the shadow of the pine tree as lightning flashes across the sky.  I walk back down the hallway and whisper a silent prayer,”Thank you, Lord, that it was only a dream!”

 

 

This is a mostly fictional piece written in response to Kat’s link up on the one word prompt “soaked.”  At one time we did have a beautiful pine tree that stood tall in our back yard.  It was large enough that all four children could hide in its needles at the same time.  Sadly, the pine tree is long gone but thankfully it did not crash into our house.  It and so many other beautiful pine trees in our part of the country succumbed to a destructive little pine tree beetle a few years ago.  The picture above is what remains of it at the present time.

3 Comments

  • Kat

    08/12/2017 at 10:38 pm Reply

    I always appreciate a dream that I wake feeling so grateful that it’s not reality. Best feeling of relief!

  • madamdreamweaver

    08/10/2017 at 1:47 pm Reply

    Wow, what a dream! Good thing the tree is still there! Great writing1

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