When the storm passes
...while there's sun in the distance, there's devastation left behind
There was rain today
And crystal blue was hidden by a cloudy gray
A sudden shower come to chase the sun away
Occasional rain– Terry Callier
~
The rain was, in fact, not so occasional. There was lots of it. Not today, but earlier this week. For two days, our city and province were lashed by a torrid storm. Amid “severe weather warnings”, schools being closed and companies being urged to allow their employees to work remotely, homes were flooded, roofs were ripped off houses and whole communities devastated. Trees shed big branches. Some toppled over completely. According to a statement issued by the City of Cape Town, they were called out to attend to more than 1 100 cases of fallen trees.
Around the province, such incidents resulted in the death of at least three people.
In the wake of the storm, the official count of people who had lost their lives as a result of the violent weather stood at 10. Close to ninety thousand were displaced, many of them in the city’s informal settlements.
Traditional and social media posts highlighted how differently communities around the city and province experienced the storm. While young people surfed and sailed in flooded roads in some areas, others sat perched atop the roof of their rickety homes, waiting for redemption as rescuers raced toward them in bright yellow dinghies.
The 23 people on those roofs had been in that precarious position since the night before.
Damn the weatherman
He seems to work against me any way he can
And he's been dealing tear-drops since the world began
And occasional pain
~~
When I sat down to write this, my intention had been to reflect on returning to an old walking spot after having been gone for months… perhaps a pic or two of broken branches snapped by the storm. A video of the roaring river. Maybe a celebration of the fellow walkers who welcomed me back.
Instead my heart tugged me in the direction of gratitude.
On Monday morning as the storm raged, I had driven the national road in the direction of Stellenbosch to get to my students. I arrived safely. And despite lashing wind and rains on the way back, that evening I was safely home, huddled in bed with my little family of dogs and Husband.
Around the same time, others were seeking refuge in the homes of neighbours and friends. In community halls and churches. Dressed in still-drenched clothing. Lining up for bread and blankets.
The next day offered them no silver lining. The rain was relentless.
And then from Wednesday the sky cleared, the sun shone as if nothing had happened. Like a violent lover whose anger cycled unpredictably.
And blue you, don't believe I'm talking to you
The light is shining through you - still you will not see
Blue you - think I'm trying to undo you
When I only want to seek the Truth
And speak true
~~
As we walked on Friday morning – me, my neighbour and our three dogs – I counted my blessings as my Garmin counted my steps and beeped to mark the completion of another kilometre.
How inconsequential such metrics suddenly seemed as I found myself on the other side of a storm and realised how lucky I was to be there.
I can't tell you when
But someday soon we'll see the sun re-born again
And there'll be light without as well as light within
And occasional rain
In this Paws for Thought series I share thoughts and images gathered during my walks with my favourite girls Skyy Dogg and Swayze. Today the words of Occasional Rain by the inimitable Terry Callier were swirling around my head, so I dared to share this post with him.
I invite you to come by and stop here for a rest every now and then.