Caught in a STORM!

I checked the weather forecast--as I do every morning--and the day ahead looked to be fairly mild and damp, but not disastrous.  It had already drizzled for a few hours in the wee hours, and there remained a 15% chance of showers for the rest of the day, but already the clouds were moving off, the pavement was steaming, and the sun was shining.

I kept the kids in out of the mud for the earliest part of the morning, but I wanted to get outside with the kids in a joyful way, and as the heat wasn't intense, I decided it would be a good day to see if we could complete the 3 mile loop of a favorite nature trail--the one with the painted labyrinth at the start.

We've never finished the loop before.

We arrived to find a woman gently walking the circumlocutions of the labyrinth, so I kept the kids out of her way, and we started directly down the trail.

It was busy, and there was a set of young men with an enormous dog who was not on a leash.  This dog liked children, and I had 8 with me.  Immediately he ran away from his owners to try to make friends with my children, but as he stood a head taller than most of them when he was down on all 4 paws, he scared the pants off them, and they ran in fear, and he chased them--all the while his owner called, "Don't worry!  He's friendly!  He's nice!"

I was peeved because it didn't matter that the dog was nice--my kids were terrified--especially Baymax who was attacked by our dog less than a year ago.

He still bears the scars.

The owners rounded up their giant dog and leashed him correctly, and we paused to count mulberry trees in order to let them get far enough ahead of us on the trail that we wouldn't run into them again (we did, but the leash was still in place, and the owners kept to the far side of the trail and we kept to the other far side).

And then we just had a lovely, lovely walk.

We spied dozens of these dragonflies.

At one curve in the path, we spied a deer.  It ran off before I could get my phone out of my pocket.

Lola loves her giant camp shirt.  And Ladybug loves being Lola's "best friend."

At 1.5 miles we stopped for a snack and a drink of water.  As we rested, we talked about our favorite parts of our walk so far and what we anticipated ahead.

Beowulf heard the first rumble of thunder.

"Sounds like rain might be coming," I said casually.  Then, as I saw the kids nervous faces, I added brightly,  "I saw that it might rain again today, but think of how cool and fresh we'll feel if we get rained on!"

We knew that the trail opened out to meadows and no shade ahead, so we packed up our picnic and headed out.

I turned back to see the dark gray shadow that was forming . . . and following us.

Nearly half a mile later, we stopped to admire a caterpillar.

I turned to look back at the looming clouds.

This photo does not do justice to the ominous-ness of the clouds in reality.

Oh yeah, this storm was gonna be an adventure.

I cheered the kids on by expressing delight in the sounds of the crickets who thought it was evening and the cool breeze that was blowing.

They danced along the trail singing and dancing to "The Ants Go Marching."

At least most of them did.

Beowulf was freaking out because thunder was rumbling repeatedly; he doesn't cope very well with noises.

And suddenly we were attacked by the storm.

The rain fell so fast and so hard that we couldn't see.
Debris flew into our eyes.
The trail went from dry to river in seconds.
Baymax's hand slipped from mine and he fell face first in the mud and water.
I grabbed him in one arm, grabbed Beowulf by the hand, and ran for the trees.
Nature Angel scooped up Lola to do the same.
Little Princess and Ladybug and Mister Man held hands in a chain.
Brother was left on his own, but he stayed ahead of us--hoping to get to the van faster that way.
We were as wet as if we'd jumped into a lake.
My phone was in my pocket; I figured it was water-logged.
The rain was so fierce that the kids stopped walking and huddled together sobbing.
I was harsh, "You're fine!  Stop crying!  Keep walking!  It's just a rain!  You can walk!  Keep walking."

I was harsh because I was afraid, and the kids had to keep walking.

We finally reached the trees, but it was worse there.  We weren't sheltered a bit from the ferocity of the downpour, and now we were in danger of branches, limbs, or even whole trees falling on us.

Some of the trees were literally bent in half--their trunks horizontal to the ground.

And the flying debris was ever so much worse.

Nature Angel and I held our preschoolers with their backs to the worst of the wind, held hands with other small people--she even had 2 kids hanging on to the back of her vest, using her body for shelter and walking with their eyes closed to carry on--and prayed.

I sang out idiotically, "We're having an adventure!  Isn't it funny to be so wet with our clothes on!  It's like being at the spraypark!"

No one was duped.

We were ankle deep in water, rocks, and mud.
Beowulf had his free hand covering his ear as he sobbed, "This is not my favorite thing!  This is not my favorite thing!  This is not my favorite thing!"
Mister Man and Little Princess and Brother stopped to huddle and sob.

I got fierce again, and they snapped back into focus, trudging on the best they could.

Many minutes later, they perked up when we got to the low water bridge.  "We're at the low bridge!  We're close!  Look, Mom!  We're at the low bridge!"

I tried setting Baymax down to walk for a minute, but it was only a second before he was flat on his face again in the wildly running water.

I scooped him up and followed the kids from the low bridge up to the shelter of the railroad bridge.

I thought perhaps we could wait out the worst of the storm there.  I checked my phone and found that it worked.

 "Hey!  Let's snap a photo to remember our adventure," I called out.

The kids did their best:

 And then the tornado sirens started.

Everyone but Nature Angel just crumpled in fear.

That Nature Angel--she's a grown up masquerading as an 11-year-old.

She's a champion.

If a tornado was really coming, we were totally not safe under that rock-and-boulder-strewn bridge.
If a tornado was really coming, we were totally not safe out in the open . . . or in our van!

But there was probably a shelter that would accept us back near the trail head.

I dithered for about 5 seconds and decided we needed to carry on.

We had just over half a mile to go--mostly uphill.

Nature Angel was trembling under the weight of her 3-year-old burden.  All in all, she carried that little sister for a full mile under horrible conditions.

Such a champion!

And Brother!  How can I describe how he soldiered on at the head of our sad-and-scared little band leading us all the way to safety?  He's only 6, and he's scared of almost everything, but he was so brave.

So brave.

And shaking.

His whole body was shaking so hard it was visible from a distance.

But he carried on.

I've never been so proud and desirous of being protective of him in our whole relationship.

But all I could do was keep carrying Baymax and keep saying to Beowulf, "You're okay.  I know this isn't your favorite thing.  What is your favorite thing?  My favorite thing is to go swimming on a hot day or to read a book in my bed.  I know this isn't your favorite thing.  I hear you.  You can keep walking.  We're almost done.  What is your favorite thing? . . . "

And then the van.

We made it.

Simultaneously the park ranger saw us.

He'd been out patrolling after the tornado all-clear (that we didn't know about because we couldn't hear my phone in the noise of the storm) searching for anyone who might be in trouble.

"Are you all accounted for?
Is there anything you need?
Are you okay?"  he asked.

I told him we were fine now that we were back at our van.  He looked at the kids and said seriously, "You were brave.  Good job.  You were brave."

I don't know if they heard him.  They were too busy shucking off backpacks and getting into shelter as fast as they could.

I found a text from my husband, and I replied:

"Mom?" Little Princess asked, "Should we say a prayer that we're glad to be safe?"

"Oh! Yes!"  I replied.

And shiveringly, we paused to thank our Heavenly Father for our deliverance from the storm.

We half-listened to an audio book on the way home.  Mostly the drone of the narrator's British voice helped soothe our traumatized minds.

We almost fell out of the van in our eagerness to get into dry clothing, but I stopped Brother with a hand on his arm, "You were so brave.  It was so scary, and you were so brave."

In return he smiled his most beatific smile.

After we dried off--welcomed gratefully and warmly by Sir Walter Scott, Rose Red, and Super Star (Pixie was at work and Belle was at the farm--Sir Walter Scott had already checked on them both, and they were fine)--we gathered around the dining room table to eat the popcorn prepared by Sir Walter Scott and to talk out what happened.

"What do you want to say about the storm?" I asked each child in turn.

That was enough to get the ball rolling.

When the popcorn was gone, the flow of words ceased, and I put on Shirley Temple's Heidi for the kids to watch while I made hot chocolate and fresh cookies.

This is a good sample of how we're spending the rest of the day:

Although there's some Harry Potter involved, too. :)

I am so, so, so, so grateful to be safe and home.

The sun is out now.

Other than a few downed branches and trees and a whole bunch of tossed-about outdoor furniture (metal, heavy, outdoor furniture) you'd never know we had wild storm just hours ago.