A harbour in the tempest

I was off by two days.

Swirling vortexes and tumultuous ribbons of water pour down from ominous thunder heads on all sides. Quite a transformation from the puffy white pillows that had filled the sky only an hour ago.

'Well Bud, should we make a run for it?' The question was rhetorical and somewhat chimerically emphasized since there really wasn't anywhere to run to. With almost no warning, the pleasant breeze I'd been enjoying turns into a fierce gale and the cattle lowing seem to me a portent that something dire is on the horizon. I remember that scene from Twister, you know, the part with the flying cows and wonder how aerodynamically bovine might take to the skies. My absurd anxieties are quickly put aside when a passing woman stops to say there's a little store/post office ahead that will allow us to make use of the back yard. Given the alternative of being surrounded on all sides by some truly dark and threatening storm systems, I feel fortunate to find this wonderful respite of Sand Springs.

Showers consistently pelt the tent all night, and upon waking in the morning, the sky doesn't appear to be changing its mood. Shortly after 8:00, I meet Mrs Daisy Dutton, the proprietor of Sand Spring's store. She welcomes us to remain for another day, and since Buddy is feeling under the weather, fighting off some opportunistic virus, a day of rest seems to be the best course of action.

Inside the Post Office I become acquainted with another in the traveller's kindred: a Mrs Kim Zimmerman, who after experiencing a great number of diversities and details from around the country, met her soul mate and settled down in this little known gem of a town--a far cry from the suburbs of Chicago. We chat for a bit about this and that and intermingled with tales of her past experiences and places she's lived, her love for this community can't help but shine through. I find myself thinking, 'It must be nice to find a place where you feel you belong.' Soon after, in a wonderful token of generosity, Kim picks up the tab for some items that I'd collected in the store. I'm grateful for the blessing, and hope I'll be as gracious when the next opportunity presents itself for me to give.

I'm back in my tent and it's 13:15. The rain turns to snow and then returns to rain again with a few brief intermittent periods of hail. The wind whips around us but Buddy is unfazed by the gusts, content to stay bundled up partially in his blankets and partially in my sleeping bag. I guess the thing to do is follow his example and take a little nap. Maybe this will have blown over by evening?