The WIND here in Eastern Montana is wild! The storm that rolled through town Monday night and then throughout the day on Tuesday was impressive (and if I am honest, at times terrifying). Growing up in Arizona I am used to impressive wind storms. During monsoon season the wind can topple trees and leave devastation in its wake. I am sure you have seen the images of the walls of dirt (haboobs) that move through the Phoenix area. They aren’t just impressive to the eye, but the wind that forms them is dangerous. I am not unaccustomed to wind storms. The difference that I noticed from the windstorms here and those in Arizona are the trees. In the desert the trees don’t grow as tall and impressive. That means that during windstorms, though they might be ravaged they aren’t as intimidating. During Monday night’s wind, the trees took a beating and so did everything else in their proximity. Our yard was covered in fallen branches, the power lines behind our house were damaged by a limb sending sparks flying through our yard, and we all saw the aftermath around town where large branches had been torn from their trunks. As I watched the tree branches get tossed about in the storm, I felt like one of the disciples on the boat with Jesus during the storm. My teeth were clenched and I found myself holding my breath as I anticipated something dreadful taking place.
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