The Uncertainty of an Idaho Springtime

As a native Idahoan, I should have become accustomed to the changes of our weather patterns. But I am not. On Sunday, we had temperatures in the seventies. I opened all the windows & aired out our home, while my husband mowed the lawn for the first time this year. It felt rejuvenating. I unpacked summer clothes & donned a pair of capris & sandals.
Then in the middle of the night, things changed. The wind began to blow. Not just a little breeze, we were assaulted with wild gusts that toppled trees into power lines & rattled everyone’s nerves. The rain fell sideways into windows. Littered plastic grocery bags took to the skies like strange synthetic jellyfish & danced high over the landscape. It was disconcerting. I felt like I was in an alien landscape & needed lights on in the house to see me through my tasks.
Then things changed after sunset. The winds went away as quickly as they came. The skies were clear & we were treated to a dinner-plate sized full moon, rising over the foothills & bright, starry skies. I stood outside & stared, in awe of the heavens. For every change there is a consummate beauty. I feel small & insignificant & yet connected & inter-related with the forces of nature, all at the same time. How wondrous the natural world can be!


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