
12/16/25 local storm – Tuesday
I was awakened at 1:00 am, by non-stop rain. During the night an amaaaaazing wind event, lit with fierce, angry howls, and whipping rains. Profound blue flashes in clouds overhead felt eery, almost alien.
Suddenly a neighbor’s large tree fell across the street out back. Power in the neighborhood went down as a transformer roared with a sharp sound of electric discharge. After about 10 seconds everything, surprisingly, powered back up!
My nerves were jangled as memory of last summer’s rainstorm flashed to mind where, behind our house, an evergreen tree limb touched a power line. The sky crackled with a disturbing electrical ignition, the sound of a huge explosion, and momentary fire in the tree. It took over 40 minutes to get emergency responders. Thank goodness the fire went out on its own fairly quickly. Were we about to have a repeat event?
The storm was furious! Tossing trees about, spinning the rain water. I honestly thought we were on the edge of a tornado. Most people associate tornadoes with flat lands, but the pacific NW is no stranger to small tornadoes. In my lifetime I’ve heard stories of roofs being ripped off, toppled trees, and lives lost. This storm system was not even forecasted, so it was quite alarming. It also had a strong consciousness to it, if I may put it that way. The air was filled with revenge, ferociousness, and even pain of the most appalling nature.
Kitty Ji sat just outside the door, meowing at me over and over. I could feel her fear, and her warning cries for me to get out of this mess. I, however, was fixated on how utterly shooken my nerves felt, yet not wanting to abandon this storm. Surprising even myself, I begin to sing.
The song was nothing in particular. It was shaky, scared but insistent. I just let whatever notes needed to come out of my throat rise into the fury overhead. When I felt the song complete I noticed the wind calmed down immediately. The tall trees were softly swaying. Not knowing if that was it, I took Kitty inside for her safety.
Soon as I returned outside the storm rose again. It wasn’t leaving after all. It felt determined to rage on and on. At this point I, personally, felt the song was all I could offer. Now I needed to call in the ‘big Spirit guns’.
I evoked strength by calling in the power of Archangel Michael’s firm stance and determination of protection, and Mother Mary for a compassionate witness to all the energies, souls, and whatnot that had been pulled into the spiraling chaos, perhaps against their own will.
My teeth were chattering, my nervous system was tilting, and I seriously didn’t want to be out there, but I also felt called to stand my ground, hold the boundary, honour Nature, but make it very clear that this sacred land was my grove, my responsibility and this storm must honour my Divine Presence as I honoured its right to show me whatever it needed to express.
The winds kept going and going, but I wouldn’t let up. Anyone else seeing me in that moment would’ve thought me crazy for staying put. In truth, all I really wanted was to run inside, huddle under the blankets warm and cozy, and wish it all away.
But years before, when all nine evergreens fell in our backyard during a powerful snow storm, the words of a wise friend, Dana O’Driscoll, came to me:
“You must bear witness to the destruction and loss. Honour the emotions you feel. You shed tears not only for yourself but also for the spirits of the land who’ve lost their homes, their friends and family. Speak to Mother Nature, and when the storm has passed, bless the elements, hold the space with prayers flags until you can rebuild the space once again.”
As I remembered her words the winds began calming down, the trees relaxed, the angry howling winds faded away.
I didn’t get to sleep till after 4:00 am, feeling completely drained yet vibrating with anxiety from all that happened.
I kept replaying the scene in my mind, saying “Did I really do that? Stand up to that storm, sing a song, call in angels and Divine Mother? That’s crazy!”
But, yes. I really did do that, because that’s what we do.
Nature is hungry for communication with us. There is much to be done, to witness, to take action on, and there are many wonderful trees, waterways, starry night skies, and campfires awaiting our return. Nature did not abandon us. It is we who’ve wandered too far off and forgotten our roots.
May this experience inspire you to ignite right relationship with our beautiful, powerful, yet fragile planet in your own, beautiful, powerful fashion. 🌎









