I’m on a rhyming kick, sue me (no, don’t sue me. That is the opposite of my point).
There are some big storm cells banging around out here.
The weather, and nature, is a beast yet unconquered. Sure, we set our homes and cities in the midst of once mighty plains, and long-since dead jungles. But does that mean we have beaten it?
Nature still finds a way to batter our “civilization” with blistering winds, frost storms, thunder that rips us awake at night. Storms and disasters are described as acts of God, even in modern skepticism. There are no other words to describe these forces, at least not that do justice to the way they make us feel- insignificant, powerless, fumbling in the dark for sticks to rub together to make light. Hurricanes on the coast lines, tornadoes inland, flooding with heavy rain, freezing pipes that burst open. All wresting our modicum of influence back into the hands of nature.
We are, of course, adept stewards of the world we are in. We fix our homes, we build storm drains and flexible skyscrapers, we insulate pipes and we set fires so that fires do not start. But that does not mean we have control.
It’s scary for me to not have control. Surrendering to the helplessness is not something that comes easily. I want to rail against it, fight with everything I have. But nature will have its way with all of us. The storms will break down everything we have built. They inform us of our weakest areas, and force us to rebuild, better than ever.
I have to learn sometime, how to give up control. And the storm seems like the best place to try.
Thanks for reading.