nature's fury

The state of Oregon is making national headlines for braving the gnarliest storm the west coast has seen since the infamous Columbus Day Storm of 1962. Rivaling that storm’s strength, this one is being called a mid-latitude cyclone. Meteorologists say it began as a series of converging typhoons before mixing with hurricane-force winds over the Pacific Ocean. Energized with cold air from Alaska, the storm brewed into a force to be reckoned with by the time it reached shore last weekend. It ended up leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. Rivers and streams swelled with heavy rains before jumping their banks and flooding towns. Homes were devastated by winds, erosion and falling trees. The storm also isolated small coastal communities; fallen trees and flooded roads made escape nearly impossible as power outages hindered communication and rescue efforts. Even though the gusts reached speeds upwards of 120 mph, the sustained winds of 60-75 mph were particularly damaging. Such force wreaked havoc on trees, their grip on the earth weakened as a result of being rooted in soil that had been softened by more than 10 inches of rain. To be sure, the effect on the people affected is not to be overlooked. Five have died as a result of the storm thus far and many more have been rendered homeless. Perhaps most notable among the casualties was Oregon’s largest living thing: the sitka spruce tree in southern Clatsop County. Estimated to be about 700 years old, the tree’s top half was snapped off after being pummeled by the relentless winds. At seventeen feet in diameter and 206 feet tall, the tree was the largest of its kind and a draw for tourists. Now that the worst of the storm has passed, I’m reminded of Neil Young. He sang: “you are like a hurricane, there’s calm in your eye.”

Stormy weather was always cool to me. We had a forested backyard growing up and I remember looking out the window at the gently swaying tree trunks as rain beat against the glass. I remember the groaning sound the trees made as they struggled against the wind. I remember the limbs and debris that littered our deck and yard after a big storm. It was awe-inspiring to see the raw power of nature at work. I took a trip to the beach one spring break during my college years and experienced a serious storm. My friends and I were drinking beer in the house as the storm grew in intensity. Eventually, we elected to put on slickers and struck out for the water line, fighting the swirling wind every step of the way. The waves were breaking higher than I'd ever seen and the rain was falling horizontally. We were forced to shout to be heard above nature at full volume. I just laughed. When we returned to the house, exhilirated from our foray into the belly of the beast, the power went out. We lit candles, played charades all night and had a great time.