yesterday God did some pruning

Yesterday God did some pruning of the trees in my little coastal town. A micro burst, a kind of inverted tornado coming off the water, brought with it a hard horizontal rain that came at the house screens and the trees with a ferocity that provoked a rush to close the storm windows (earning that appellation yesterday for sure) before water piled up on the sills and spilled over. Two sycamore maples across the street got decapitated, a lichen covered sentinel had a massive limb amputated that took out on its crash to the street a limb of a now not so fruitful apple tree. Limbs holding clusters of unripe apples lay in the street and patio. I opened the door and was about to go out and access the damage but the rioting rain, the lightning crossing the sky and connecting, the thunder breaking the sound barrier, and wind seemed to suggest that being inside at that moment was the logical choice. When it was over I went around on my bike and hardly a street was clean of broken limbs and whole uprooted trees, and downed wires. Many streets were closed off. Orange cones, police barriers kept cars and people from transgressing into the dangerous space of electric wires with heavy trees leaning on them. Crane buckets holding men armed with chain saws tackled Pleasant Street, a main thoroughfare and a priority. I watched the strategies in how to keep sagging wires from snapping. After that success by the Town's tree men I headed over to Fort Sewell. There the trees had little protection and it showed. The park was a kind of Gettysburg of trees with the fallen and broken limbs and dismembered corpses. It made me realize even more that man is a mighty small influence on things. And I am quite glad that Someone bigger and mightier moves the wind and waves and that a Climate Change Congress hasn't that power no matter how that narrative of humanitarianism salvation is pushed. Yes, it is a good thing that our Legislators cannot yet legislate the wind---and it is still God's prerogative to prune with that mighty invisible saw of weather.