8:218) Ginny Little 31-MAY-98 18:12

Even the trees blew angry last night, with tennis ball sized hail and the wind, oh, the wind ripping, blustering gusts up to 90 miles an hour. I lay in my bed listening, watching, wondering what karmic wrath tossed those trees like blades of grass. I opened my windows as wide as they could go so I could feel as if immersed. Dead calm and suddenly, frighteningly strong bursts, shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHH, through the side forest and across to the back and bending and shaking and cracking of limbs. What forcefulness. But the trees lean into the wind, do not resist, and make chaos into dance. Some break. Some remain tall. I lay in my bed listening to the scream of trees in the late of night to early sunrise. I cannot sleep. The phone rings in the dark,

"This is the Sheriff's Department".