Can't See the Car For the Tree

Thunder and lightening end the drought with such efficiency that water with no place to go swims by my basement door carrying the birdseed towards the wood pile. The wind pulls the leaves from the trees and whisks them throughout the yard. I am safe and warm and working on unpacking bags full of clothes, trying to decide what to do with packing wrinkles. The phone rings.

Dad: Pauline [our neighbor] just called. She said a tree fell in the front yard. She thought it hit one of our cars, but it's no where near the Honda. Thank goodness.

I rush to the front window to see.

Me: Uh Dad, where do you think my car was parked?

Dad: Hmm. Where is your car?

Me: Dad, I think it might be under that tree.

Dad: Oh shit. I guess Pauline was right, it did hit a car. I forgot all about your car.

Miraculously, my car survives with only a few dents and bruises, no broken glass, and the tree is removed by early evening.