Three Years

Today marks 3 years since the tornado went through Deltaville. 

 A boat in the middle of a field

 Telephone pole sheared off at the bottom

 This pine tree was literally twisted by the twister

 The tennis courts

 My dad demonstrating just how large that root ball is

The area where our shed used to be.

No, the tornado didn't dump junk in the yard, 

that was in the shed.

Note the neighbor's vehicle with the large hole in the windshield

I believe that was from our paddle boat being thrown into it.

 Zoar Baptist Church with a large bite out of the middle

 A house that was tossed into the creek

 Removing the large oak trees off of our house

 House behind us

the pool

There was a lot of destruction, but there was no loss of life.

No one was even injured-

not even the various pets that were sucked out of homes 

or buried under debris.

Things changed though, and that's the hardest to deal with (for me).

I'd rather Deltaville stay the same as it was in the late 70's and 80's.

Instead it just seems to keep changing and growing and 

getting too big for the britches I'd prefer it wear.

A "funny" coincidence- delta Δ  is the mathematical symbol for change.

You can read about the tornado on these posts:

This is Not a Test!

Miracle Monday

The Bright Side

Our House- Not So Very Fine

The More Things Change

Miracle Monday- Rita

Before and After

Remnants

Remnants 2

The First Deltaville Tornado

Monday Meditation

  Failure is only the opportunity to begin again more intelligently.

~Henry Ford

Big Bird

The inspiration for today's post came from Growing Wild on Waverly Lane's post about Ichabod the Snake.  I suggest you read her post for yourself, but basically it tells the story of a snake who was named Ichabod (a very appropriate name for a snake) and how each subsequent snake since the first Ichabod has been called Ichabod as well (trust me, it's much more eloquent in her post).
How many more times can I use the word post in this post?

Over in Deltaville on Sturgeon Creek, we have Big Bird.  And no, I'm not talking about a large 8 foot yellow bird, I'm referring to a Great Blue Heron.

I've mentioned many times how my great-uncle and surrogate grandfather PePop was a nature lover and Superintendent of Patapsco State Park in Maryland.  Growing up, he taught me and all my cousins about the natural world around us.  I know he is instrumental in giving me my love of the outdoors and all the creatures in it. 

PePop is the person who gave Big Bird his name.  Through the fall and winter, PePop would send cards and letters.  In his letters, there were always drawings of the animals that had recently visited the creek.  And along with the drawings were the names PePop had christened them with.  The Great Blue Heron was dubbed Big Bird because, well, he's a big bird.  Every Great Blue Heron that I have seen since the age of about 7 is named Big Bird.  My younger siblings grew up calling the herons Big Bird and my children call the herons Big Bird. 

And when I traveled to Deltaville after the Tornado, it was a welcome sight to see Big Bird feeding in his usual spot in the creek.

I have a passionate hatred an aversion to change, so it's reassuring to see the same bird fishing in the same spot the way I have for 30-some years.

Just because everything is different doesn't mean anything has changed.

~Irene Peter

Monday Meditation

All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another.

~Anatole France