When we moved in two weeks ago, we all had to adjust to the moonlight shining through the overhead dome and windows. We adjusted and it is magical to see the light, to stand in moonbeams inside.
There was also a thunderstorm one of our first nights. I was a little concerned with lightning, as suddenly it felt like we were so much more exposed as we watched it flash across the sky. I found myself counting between lightning bolts and claps of thunder. The kids slept right through it.
But nothing made me feel more like I was plopped right into the elements than living in a yurt through a superstorm, the aftermath of hurricane Sandy.
I was exhausted last night after traveling this weekend, so ready to try to catch up with a good night of sleep. I knew the storm was coming, but I’m still so new to this yurt living that I wasn’t fully connecting big storm = ha, ha no sleep.
Shortly after I fell asleep, I awoke with a jolt as wind socked against the yurt. I could see the trees swaying out the window in the full moon light. There was no going back to sleep. The wind howled around in these rushing paths up the hill, down the hill. I could hear trees crack and was very aware of the tall trees just a few feet away from our tiny yurt. Above it all I could hear this thrumming, humming, whirling sound way up high in the air. It was like hearing the heart of the storm up there, and listening as it shot bolts of wind out to zoom across the land. I started trying to determine if a structure that is not actually connected to the ground might be tipped right over in such a wind. And which bookcase, hutch, refrigerator, etc., might catch a falling tree to keep it from landing on us in our beds…. And I couldn’t get this Indigo Girls song out of my head:
And I’m up on the airplane
Nearer my God to thee
I start making a deal
Inspired by gravity…
I never should have read my horoscope
Or the fortune on the bubble strip
Saying what you think won’t happen will
A great thing to read before a trip
On an airplane…
I could hear as the wind would hit against the yurt, and not having anything to catch hold of, slide off. Finally I settled into a short restless sleep, and when I awoke I somehow knew that the yurt itself was not a concern. It was not going anywhere. The wind had no hold over it. But those trees, those cracking sounds…
In the morning we walked out to see a huge spruce tree had split off of its trunk to fall across part of a nearby trail. I could see the huge jagged stump from our yurt window. And thought how very real and sleep-depriving “closer to nature” can be. I’m hopeful that tonight we are back to just those magical, sleepy moonbeams.