Bonfire with 50 mph Wind

Bonfire with 50 mph Wind

Wish I had a picture. That would be the perfect thing to have here. But I didn't have a camera. Or a picture phone.

We had a storm blow up last night, whilst we were sitting around a bonfire. And when I saw blew up, I mean that we were sitting there on a still, sweltering summer night, wondering if the thunderheads off to our west were going to wander our way or not.

Next, I was laying a couple of logs on the fire, as a breeze blew in. It was cold, and it smelled of rain.

I'd noted that to myself when the cool breeze multiplied upon itself by a factor of ten, and then doubled itself.

Trees were rocking, leaves were flying, limbs were falling around us.

Meanwhile, the bonfire, which had started only a few minutes before, decided to start whipping sparks and flames into the 50 mile an hour wind. I wish I had a picture. It was a thing to behold, as what was little more than a small campfire grew upon itself, and started whipping flame into the wind. Then, it started to spread along the borders of the firepit, licking at the grass beyond.

Owing to that we'd hate to burn the woods and houses around ours down, we broke out the tools of justice. A waterhose stopped its progress, and ultimately killed the fire altogether.

Then, we went running for the relative safety of the house.

It was right then that the wind got really rough. Knocked power out. Knocked a couple of big old trees down in the woods.

I made myself laugh last night, as I sat in the dark and listened to the storm and wind pound the yard and house. There are both Amish and Mennonite communities not far from where I am, in either direction. Neither are inclined to use electrical power.

"How do they know if it's storming," my brain mused, "if they don't have power to lose?"

Heh. My brain really is a botard, sometimes.

Listened to the radio part of the evening. Listening to people call in damage from the area, hearing of huge swaths of land without power. The main of Athens still had power, but most of the outlying areas were without, as were Etowah and big parts of Cleveland. Listened to 104.1's DJ talk about the "incredible" destruction. Wondered about calling in on the nature of hyperbole in today's media, but decided it'd be best if I just went to sleep.

Then, a while after midnight, I got that wonderful awakening jolt of all the lights that were on, and every beeping thing that has a beep in the house coming online all at once.

But all seems well this morning. The sun's in the sky. The grass is green. And there's electrical power to distract us from our families. So we have the Amish beat. And that's all that's really important.