Squall
Squall: a sudden violent gust of wind or a localized storm,
especially one bringing rain, snow, or sleet.
I know what it is like to get caught off-guard by a
squall. About 15 years ago, my son Ben, my
brother Jim and I were caught fishing on the Menominee River when the wind
suddenly switched from a southwest breeze to a northeast gale. We quickly paddled to shore, turned our
canoes over and had just crawled under their makeshift cover when two-inch hail
stones began pelting the landscape. Five
minutes later the hail turned to sheets of rain, and ten minutes after that the
sun was shining and the wind was tamed back to a light breeze. If it weren’t for the branches and shredded leaves
that now so-choked the river that it was impossible to cast without getting
snagged, and the piles of melting hailstones, one would have thought that all
had always been peaceful.
This week it didn’t catch me off-guard. The weather forecasters had actually been
predicting it for a couple of days. For
something that was predicted to be relatively brief, you could see it building all
morning. The morning started out calm
and sunny. I was a little surprised that
the birdfeeders were all birdless when I glanced that direction as I went to
get water for the coffee.
I drove into town for my morning workout. It was when I headed back home that I noticed
that the pure blue sky had been invaded with high, hazy clouds. As I got out on the highway and headed west
the longer view revealed a line of darker gray gathering on the horizon. I got home, hung up my coat and went to
refill my coffee cup when I passed by the birdfeeders the second time. The entire backyard was aflutter. Every tree and bush was dotted with birds but
they were obviously anxious as none perched for more than a second or two. At the feeders, birds were constantly coming
and going. And it was as an eclectic flock
as you could imagine; there was even a pileated woodpecker trying to perch
steadily enough on the suet cake feeder to actually manage a peck or two. That’s about as successful as he was; he was
just too large.
One hour later a ceiling of gray seemed to settle down
lower and lower, like a hen settling on its brood. The wind had fixed itself already to the
northwest, but then, like a wolf deciding to pounce, it suddenly rattled the
windows. The trees didn’t sway; instead,
they just bent over and remained in that position.
The first snowflakes streaked past the patio window
horizontally, as if they would never actually make it to the ground. Seconds later it was snowing so hard that it
was almost impossible to make out snowflakes; it was more of a white blur, like
an artist with a brush thick with oil paint who just smeared it across the canvas. Warming days and a heavy rain last week had
melted most of the snow that had previously fallen, so it was easy to watch the
ground fill up again with white. Within twenty
minutes more or less there was already a good inch on the ground. A half a cup of coffee later I began
wondering whether this was a squall or a blizzard.
Suddenly, almost too suddenly to describe, the wind let
up. It was if it had somehow decided to
chase itself away. The trees all
relaxed. The entire scene relaxed.
I put on my snow shoveling gear and headed
outside. There was no debris from this
winter squall. A thick, pristine crystal
quilt sparkled in the sun that had broken through. It was as if the clouds themselves were
melting.
I noticed that a track crossed the driveway about halfway
down to the road. I took a closer
look. It was a good-sized doe track
pressed perfectly in the snow. I
followed it to the arbor vitae where I suppose she went for a nibble. It was there that I saw where she jumped
about ten feet at a bound; I surmised that she was probably there nibbling when
I startled her when I opened the overhead garage door. Sorry about that.
It was a good reminder to appreciate not just the
beauty of nature, but her power as well.
Life problems blow in like squalls sometimes, and they settle in as if to
stay at other times. When they do just
take comfort that the Lord is near, and wait.
All will be well again.
“Be
strong and take heart, all who hope in the LORD.” Psalm 31:25
His Peace <><
Deacon Dan
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