What we thought was the usual thunderstorm last night turned out to be a furious whirlwind. For a few minutes, with lightning as its backdrop, plants started flying, roots seperated from pots, bottles tumbled down, the entire balcony of the future Cafe Domingo soaked, then, a mighty crack, followed by another.
A lush branch of the camachile tree on right side of the tiny house fell, squashing the vegetable patch, covering the mushroom where we have our warm morning drinks. The fallen overgrown branch blocked access to the gate from the front and damaged the gutter, immediately flooding the flower bed below.
The other crack was from the ipil-ipil tree standing at the front of the tiny house, its thick foliage once shading the tiny house from above. Had we been unlucky, it would have torn the roof. But the trunk split a little low, so that most of the dense branches rested casually above the roof, in this unsafe, maximum-anxiety-triggering way.
It happened so fast. The whirlwind passed by without care or thought and in its wake left us half-buried in foliage, branches, and a healthy dose of fear.
Oh, did I mention that all my sisters were visiting last night when it happened? They were sat on the balcony and were treated to frontrow seats to the destruction.
The rain was nothing, soft and negligible, and would have been cozy on normal circumstances. But the ferocious wind turned everything upside down. What a night!
Today, we spent most of our hours clearing debris and cleaning the mess, especially the broken tree on the roof, which required no less than a grand production to take down safely. I cannot thank my father enough for helping us first thing this morning.
We also saved the plants, let go of others that were destroyed, and started again as the gray sky gave way to the sun: slowly, patiently, with purpose.
Markus said we still got lucky. It could have been worse. The good news is we know the tiny house is strong and stable. Two falling trees and a whirlwind is no joke. Now time to rest!