The leaves on the bushes haven’t moved for the longest time; the air is so still. A choir of frogs croak around the yard and cicadas crick their replies.
Nights like this make me wonder why anyone would want to be inside.
What makes nights like this so precious is how easily nights like this could go wrong. How easily could the air swirl and blow away any sense of stillness?
Two such storms swept through Muskogee over the past two weeks. The first came on a Sunday — church night — then turned into the tornado that swept through Joplin. Then came tornadoes in Chickasha, Piedmont (our old school rival), Guthrie, Haskell. How many homes, how many lives, gone?
Nothing but rain touched our house, making me wonder why. Why was my house, my neighborhood spared? Why them? Why not me?
Why must I ask? Tonight I can sit in the back porch of our untouched house and enjoy the sublime stillness. The cicadas slow their song. The leaves quiver ever so slightly. I have the opportunity to thank God for one more night of stillness.