Battling the Elements

BATTLING THE ELEMENTS





    It was a dreary day.  What had started as a mild, passing weather front, had lulled into a compress of heavy snow and sleet.

    Pressing and ominous was the sky, yet still there was a beauty within the clouds, their colors and shapes writhing, changing.  The temperature was not so attractive.  It was ten below and dropping steadily.

  I have always had a strange fascination with the weather.  Heavy rains, heat, blizzards, every extreme seemed to beckon, “Join me, feel my power.”  Being slight of nerve, I have mostly resisted.  Not today.

    I suckled to the warmth of one of my numerous daily mugs of tea, trying to gain the enormous breast of courage it would take me to venture outside.  Mother tea had given me courage.  A quelling of energy and emotion had fueled my dress; haphazard, yet with purpose.  Two pairs of socks, thermals, heavy jeans, flannel shirt, coat and boots, I was ready.  One more mug of tea!

  Tea finished and courage intact, I made my way to the front door.  One large, oval window framed the dismal theater of nature’s fury that awaited me on the other side.  “I am not afraid,” I mused, knowing all too well the truth.

    I placed my hand on the handle and slowly opened the door.  The wind; that invisible demon; was very strong and I was pulled fully out onto the front porch.  Whipping the door from my grasp was its intent.  Shattering the oval glass held within the frame was its pleasure.

    “Son-of-a-bitch,” I exclaimed!  “Could it possibly get any worse?”  As I turned to go back inside, my question was abruptly answered.  If wind is an invisible demon, then ice must be the devil.  Working in conjunction, these two entities can wreak devastating havoc on a soul.  And they did!

My feet, virtual mammoths, found no traction.  I was being challenged to remain vertical and losing with every passing moment.

    “Oh crap,” I screamed!  It had become evident that I would not reap the spoils of victory, but was steadfastly on my way to feel every unthinkable agony of my own defeat.

    I hit the porch, landing on my back, with a brain-rattling thump; all the air being forcibly removed from my lungs.  Unable to draw sufficient breath, I found myself drifting quickly out of consciousness.  All was black! Amazingly, I could still hear the wind.  It was though it were speaking to me.  Speaking softly now, bearing little resemblance to the tyrannical force that conspired with that devil ice to render me flaccid and freezing.  Damn this harmonic duo of wind and ice calling me ever so gently into another realm.

    As my body temperature began to drop, I lost consciousness.

    I awoke cold and stiff, but very much still alive!  My breathing was shallow and my movements insignificant.

    After what seemed an astonishingly long and thorough assessment of my situation, what particles of my brain matter that were still functioning properly were in accord, “I must get back inside the house.”

    Mustering all my strength, I rolled onto my stomach, giving me the horrific view of what seemed a full gallon of frozen blood.  “Dear God,” I murmured.  “I must get back into the house!”

    My lower limbs; numb, rigid planks, had proven to be useless, forcing me to drag my lifeless lump of a carcass over the ice, through blood and snow.  I slowly approached the doorway and wearily, placed my hand on the facing.

    “Almost there,” I thought.

  “No,” screeched the wind, slamming the broken door shut; taking great care, of course, to include my fingers.

    Alas, this battle was not over!  Wind, with its compatriot ice, and I, alone, left seriously deficient in my physical wherewithal, were locked.

    My progress momentarily stifled, for I hadn’t the strength to raise myself to attempt to open the door, I lay there freezing.  “This will not do,” I shouted!

    I could hear the wind howling in laughter.  I could feel the ice creeping over me, consuming me.  “I must get back inside the house.”



    Perplexed, but determined, I dragged myself down the porch steps and onto the sidewalk.

The garage, a mere ten meters from the edge of the porch, was proving to be a difficult journey.  Make it, I must!

    The snow, now almost two feet deep, made the endeavor even more challenging.  I did not want this snow, a cousin to that devil ice and friend to the wind, to devour me, leaving my discovery to the thaw.

    I clawed my way through the snow and made it to the driveway.  Ice covered with snow, you wily ones, how will I traverse the?  Surely you will make every effort to impede me.

    I decided my present proneness would make a more sound tactical position, the contrary not being within my arsenal, for I could scarcely feel my legs.

    I made my way, rather easily, across the drive and to the garage door.  I could not raise it.  “Locked,” I belted!

    In anger, I hit the door with my fist several times.  This was the signal; it would seem, for snow to make his solitary attack upon me.  Falling from the roof, it quickly buried me, entirely.

    Frantically, I dug my way out.  During this barrage of flailing arms and flying snow, I noticed something.  My legs, I could feel my legs!  Warm blood was finally reaching my lower extremities.  The pain was horrid, nevertheless welcomed.

    Could I stand?  Did I dare?

    For the moment I decided to stay on my belly.  I would use my legs as much as the pain would allow.

    “The basement window,” I thought.  This window was low to the ground and the glass should be easy to break.

    I began my trek, only temporally halted by a burst hydrant.  Water was spewing and freezing instantaneously, creating beautiful arcs of ice.  Ice!

    I quickly altered my path to avoid the ice.  My thoughts were clearing and I felt a sudden change of momentum.  My movements hurried, but not labored.   

    I made it to the basement window.  The opening, I realized, was not sufficient enough for my large frame.



    Undeterred, I set out for the back door.  I knew it wasn’t locked and was very easily opened.

    I stopped at the newly installed privacy fence.  What carnage awaited me on the other side, I knew not, but I would face it with dignity.

    I pulled myself to my feet.  Not a strong position, but acceptable.  I opened the gate and pushed through.  With each step I found new courage; I was going to make it.

    The back yard was an entirely different world.  The carnage gave way to nothing but a pale, scarcely audible whisper of wind.

    I made it to the back door and, as I had hoped, it opened easily.  I quickly dashed inside and slammed the door.  “Yes,” I shrieked!  I had battled the elements and won!  Battered and bruised, bleeding and almost frozen, but I was victorious!

    Off with my clothes and into a hot shower.  The water stung as it washed the blood from my scalp.  Down the drain went swirling circles of blood and water, until finally the water ran clear.

    I assessed my wounds and determined my scalp would probably need stitches.  I placed the only gauze I had on the wound and then wrapped a bandage around my head.

    The closest hospital was five miles away and my condition; not to mention Mother Nature and her whole family has suddenly taken a serious disliking to me, dictated that I should call for an ambulance.

    I fixed the broken window in my front door with duct tape and plastic, called for an ambulance and then settled, with my trusted mug of tea, in front of the fire place. 

    I began to drift, again, into unconsciousness.  On the verge, the very periphery of my sleep, the wind whispers…