Falling sky

While we were away last week, there was a brief but very intense storm. A tornado touched down just a few miles away. We arrived to a yard full of broken branches, but our neighbours to the west fared worse -- they lost 3 large trees and the back end of their house. What fascinates me is that most of the neighbourhood children, who tend to be pretty good at playing outside rather than inside in front of screens, have been rabid to get in that yard full of broken branches, trunks askew, foliage bedlam. Kids don't come home when called for dinner. Little heads can be seen poking through branches here and there as they wander through the masses of vegetation. Occasionally, someone brave enough will climb the six foot height to sit on the trunk of the biggest tree that fell. It's a little sad that we've lost the trees -- a few enclosing green walls have been lost, making the back vista at our house a bit less appealing -- but I love the way the children have responded, even though I don't understand it completely. Is it because they can suddenly gain easy access to tree tips that formerly towered 30-40 feet above their heads? Is it because the neighbour's yard has become a beautiful green labyrinth into which they can stitch their stories and fantasies? When they dig their fingers into the gnarly trunks, do they feel the power of the 70 mph winds that knocked down and killed some of the oldest residents of our street? I'm sure that a little of all of these things must be true. It's been a treat to watch.