How Do You Envision Your Hook?

The afternoon started with a loud clap, that of what seemed to be cracking thunder.  As Oldest described it, “It was as if I watched it all happen in slow motion.”  Isn’t that how accidents seem to happen?  You’re aware of what’s taking place, but it all seems surreal, as your eyes try to take it all in.

Earlier that morning, I had moved all of our outside chairs and hanging flower pots close to the exterior of our house, into a corner that is rarely bothered by high winds and rain.  Living on the East Coast, I was doing what I could do to control the negative effects of flying objects from Tropical Storm Andrea.  While not being directly on the Coast, the wind and rain from these hurricane season storms can definitely cause the inland some damage.  One weather report had stated that our area was to endure heavy rain, with gusting winds of 35-45 miles per hour.  Moving patio chairs and garden objects that had the potential to behave as though they had sprouted angry wings just seemed like a smart thing to do.

The rain came, but not the torrential downpour that I’d thought we would receive; however, it was a long and steady rain.  The wind gusted here and there, but not the threatening wind that forces me to sit within an interior room with no windows.  I thought that I was prepared, but some events are out of one’s control ~ they just happen.

While I was attempting to organize a disorganized laundry-room, Oldest broke into her best rendition of, “Mom, Mom, come here quickly… hurry up!”  These words usually equate to me finding evidence of digestion gone-bad, thanks to Scruffy.  He still likes to get into food that he shouldn’t have, and it still likes to disagree with him.  This call for my attention had nothing to do with the Scruffster; it had to do with our backyard.  Our garden was sporting a whole new look!

In an instant, our garden had gone from this ~

The irony of posting this photo on FB, Thursday ~

The irony of posting this photo on FB, Thursday ~

to this ~

... and seeing this on Friday ~

… and seeing this on Friday ~

For those of you who know me, you’re probably wondering what set of 4-letter words  that I strung together.  You’d be surprised ~ my words were, “oh, my!”  The rain was steady, the wind wasn’t freakishly strong, and the tree had all signs of being healthy ~ Oh. My.  It’s all I could say.

On went my raincoat, and up went the umbrella ~ I had to go out and walk the yard; survey the damage, so to speak.  The peaceful Dogwood that sparkles at night had taken a direct hit; it was hard to tell where the damaging tree stopped and where the Dogwood started.  All I could see was a jumbled mess of leaves and branches.

While taking in the new garden, I was afraid to look into the center.  The center is where we have placed Freida’s bird bath.  It’s one of those sentimental objects; it belonged to my husband’s mother, Freida.  She had searched tirelessly, for just the right one, and it had been in her garden, for as long as my husband could remember.

Looking at the size of the branch that had fallen, there was absolutely NO possible way that this treasure could have survived.  Again, I uttered the words, Oh My.  Along with the Dogwood, our Shepherd’s hook that usually holds two hanging plants (plants since removed, due to the impending storm) had also taken quite a beating.  What was once an evenly balanced piece of iron, was now a tangled question mark gently holding the bulk of the fallen branch, that was within inches of crushing the treasure.

Of all things… how symbolic is it that a Shepherd’s hook kept so much from being completely destroyed.  This scene left me wondering what my Shepherd’s hook looks like.  The one that is used to keep danger out of my way ~ well, I imagine that it’s a gnarly dented mess.

It is totally understood that a falling tree, into one’s garden, is a very, very, very small event in the whole scheme of life.  Years ago, I might have said a bit more than , Oh My.  For now, I am thankful for quick-acting and friendly neighbors who called a tree-cutting service, right away;  HUBS , who came home from work and sawed and removed branches in the rain, to preserve what wasn’t damaged; a twisted piece of metal that reminded me of how protected we are, by the unseen Shepherd’s hook ~ the one that guides and protects us, daily.

About Carol H. Rives

Wife, mother of two, friend to many. Enjoys reading and writing about education, family, friendship and life, in general. Loves spending quality time with family and friends; making new memories and cherishing the ones of the past. Some favorite interests include: exercising, hiking, writing, knitting, baking/cooking, gardening and collecting thought-provoking quotes. Try to live my life in a "pause and smile" kind of way!!
This entry was posted in Friendship, Gratitude, Nature, Uncategorized, Weather, Writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

16 Responses to How Do You Envision Your Hook?

  1. What a powerful story with an uplifting (no pun intended) ending, Carol. So glad Frieda’s bird bath remained unscathed.

  2. Kim says:

    Sorry for the destruction but glad it wasn’t more. I love the Thursday picture with the “Relax” plant tag. Seemed appropriate with the beautiful, serene yard scene! Maybe a “Panic” tag would have been good for Friday’s photo!

    • Haha ~ great idea! Maybe I’ll make some random plant tags for various occassions. I figure if “Stick” can make it, the Dogwood in the back can. However, if it doesn’t, it has brought many smiles over the years… and for that I’m thankful!

      Be well, Ms. Kimberl ~

  3. gayle erdman says:

    Carol—- God IS good ! You told the story well ! Thanks for sharing & reminding me. Love ‘ya, Gayle

  4. Paula says:

    Oh My! So glad that the Dogwood was not wiped out. Perhaps the Shepard’s hook saved it so that it will sprout newer, stronger branches as it grows into a fine old friend. Just like people really, the more we endure, the stronger we become. Hope the lights will still shine on that wonderful tree.

  5. Tim says:

    As always Carol, I love reading your blog and look forward to it each time. I love how you look at things in such a positive way! I do believe that things happen for a reason and if we look hard enough there maybe a silver lining. That is one tough Shepherd’s Hook!

    Tim

    • Thanks Tim; it was time that I got back to the keyboard, and the moment certainly presented itself.

      I don’t always, but I try most of the time to look at a mishap as a “blessing in disguise”. Sometimes I can’t find it, and I don’t think that we are always supposed to be able to find it; however, in this case it was just a simple reminder for me… a gentle nudge to remember~

  6. Jennifer S says:

    That’s a really lovely story. What a beautiful way to look at the damage storms do to our gardens. I always cringe… knowing things will likely look very different in a few hours. But a tree down! That’s always a surprise. Like Tim, I admire your skill at seeing the positive in this. Now you have a completely different garden. More sun! And with important things saved… everything’s going to be fine. I’m also now wondering the condition of my own Shepherd’s hook. Nearly worn out, I’d guess.

    • Yes Jennifer, there is definitely more sun available to a certain part of my garden! I am also able to see the birds easier with less foilage; however, not sure that they are happy about their open digs! Now their home has more of an “open-floorplan”!

      Been thinking about you a lot, over the last several day, and hoping that you are doing alright.

  7. Regina says:

    What a wonderful story. You seem to be acquiring the wisdom and perspective that I keep striving for. I am so glad the bird bath was unharmed.

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