The storm
Mother Nature kicked our arse yesterday. When I came out of my SAP training class just after 3pm, the sky sagged toward earth, so heavy there was almost a wheeze in the air.
The clouds were dark and the air was beyond humid. It was damp. But still we doubted whether the storm would finally break.
It did.
The power went out at work around 4pm, and we stood pressed to the windows, watching lightning rent the sky as winds whipped trees about and the hail pelted all. By the time we made it out to the carpark, we were ankle deep in water (and I blessed this part of the world again, for being so clean!) and parts of Cambridge Street were properly flooded.
The first wave of the storm passed and there was a misleading calm, when the sun came out and Perth's skyscrapers glimmered so beautifully under a massive rainbow. I had power at home, and took the veal out of the fridge, ready to cook when the power blew. So I had a can of corn kernels and walked from one end of the flat to the other, looking at the different views from the different sides of the house. Perth had disappeared. The cloud was so low and dark, that I couldn't see further than the other side of the street.
Thunder cracked. My hands shook as I lit the candles and settled down on the carpet, next to them with Cloudstreet open and my head resting on pillows. My windows rattled and the wind raged and when it subsided, an eerie pale blue light settled over everything.
It's a lesson in humility when you realise that although you have no power, or hot water or the means to cook or heat, you are still so much better off than many others. I was dry, I had light, and I wasn't prey to the elements. And Winton was a marvellous companion.
This morning the carpark is still flooded, and the heavy scent of eucalyptus permiates everything. There may be more rain today, but we're all okay and the day is beautiful.
The clouds were dark and the air was beyond humid. It was damp. But still we doubted whether the storm would finally break.
It did.
The power went out at work around 4pm, and we stood pressed to the windows, watching lightning rent the sky as winds whipped trees about and the hail pelted all. By the time we made it out to the carpark, we were ankle deep in water (and I blessed this part of the world again, for being so clean!) and parts of Cambridge Street were properly flooded.
The first wave of the storm passed and there was a misleading calm, when the sun came out and Perth's skyscrapers glimmered so beautifully under a massive rainbow. I had power at home, and took the veal out of the fridge, ready to cook when the power blew. So I had a can of corn kernels and walked from one end of the flat to the other, looking at the different views from the different sides of the house. Perth had disappeared. The cloud was so low and dark, that I couldn't see further than the other side of the street.
Thunder cracked. My hands shook as I lit the candles and settled down on the carpet, next to them with Cloudstreet open and my head resting on pillows. My windows rattled and the wind raged and when it subsided, an eerie pale blue light settled over everything.
It's a lesson in humility when you realise that although you have no power, or hot water or the means to cook or heat, you are still so much better off than many others. I was dry, I had light, and I wasn't prey to the elements. And Winton was a marvellous companion.
This morning the carpark is still flooded, and the heavy scent of eucalyptus permiates everything. There may be more rain today, but we're all okay and the day is beautiful.
posted by BanAnna at 3/22/2010 07:59:00 pm
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home