I've Looked At Clouds From Both Sides Now...

Alright, I've wanted to write about an album I really enjoy, but I've been too tired, and the entry will be way too long. That will have to wait for later, hopefully. But anyway, I figured it would be topical to talk about hurricanes--not rant exactly, for though I could, I don't think there's much point in that. Many others have suffered from hurricanes far worse than I have. I will also try to avoid talking about the horrible after effects of Katrina, though if I feel brave enough to incur the wrath of some very well-armed people of New Orleans who have already opened fire on their rescuers, I will comment at a later time on why New Orleans should not be rebuilt. Nor will I write about the hurricane de jour, a recently intensified beauty (if hurricanes can be beautiful, a dangerous philosophical question) hovering off the coast of eastern Florida, a little too close for comfort. So, what will I talk about exactly?

When I was a child, I enjoyed hurricanes. Maybe I have always been a perverse sort of human being (not necessarily in the immoral way, just in the stubborn and contrarian way), but as a child I greatly enjoyed hurricanes. My signature to this day (originating in early childhood) contains a little squiggle below my name that represents the vertical profile of a hurricane or a huge tornado. I don't know what exactly what that means, but whatever it is, it's probably not good. As a child I enjoyed storms and hurricanes for all the right (?) reasons. I built up my grandfather's driveway with little levees to collect pools of water. I jumped off of ladders using umbrellas as parachutes. I used rocks to block the path of running water and create rockfill dams. During the "hurricane" day off from class due to Andrew in 1992 I played football in the rain (though passing was a bit difficult in the brisk conditions). As a child, I remember walking through the rains from Elena on the way to services in St. Petersburg. I must have been five years old. Some of my earliest and most enduring memories are about storms (I'm not alone in this. I hear it runs in the family). Even as a teenager, hurricanes didn't particularly worry me, for the most part.

Something changed, though. I missed the hurricane seasons of 1999-2003 while I was in college. By the time ABC (Ambassador Bible Center, for those who don't know) finished in 2004, I had not been faced with any hurricanes since Georges flew quickly by during my senior year of high school. Was I in for a rude awakening. Hurricanes may have been fun before, but they're no fun when one is a responsible (?) adult. Hurricanes may be beautiful, but they are truly works of frightful symmetry. More so than other natural disasters they carry with them dread and worry for days before they arrive, if they arrive at all. They are immense and powerful, but yet they have no steering. Some of them are strong and small, and pass one by at the last minute. Somtimes they dance around off the coast. Sometimes they stop and abruptly change direction, sparing millions of grateful souls. And sometimes they strengthen, grow to gargantuan size, and plow right through your home. Some years are good years, some are bad. There is no way of knowing. They are purposeful and yet emblematic of the chancy nature of life at the same time. They are the microcosm of human uncertainty, random chance, and irrevocable judgment at the same time. Few types of natural disasters combine the insane level of destructiveness of the hurricane with the sort of dread warning that they provide, allowing one to imagine the worst long before the storm hits ashore, occasionally fulfilling every dark nightmare.

Whether one considers storms to be agents of God's fury or natural disasters that occur based on either cyclical or global warming-influenced frequencies, they are powerful forces. The forces of wind and rain and storm surge that they inflict upon coastal areas, and even far inland, are truly a sight to behold. I've looked at clouds from both sides now, and though I can't say I understand them, I do recognize that such things cannot be taken for granted. Living in territory in risk, one has to be prepared, not just physically, but mentally, emotionally, and even spiritually. It just takes a long time to get to that point.