The swarm of tornadoes that drilled through the state a couple of days ago left several trails of debris. I walked through Bond Park again yesterday just before dark. New chunks of debris had fallen from the sky. Foam, insulation, vinyl siding, a dish rag. In places, pink & yellow insulation draped on tree branches like spanish moss, sad momentos of other people’s tragedies. I found long strips of black roofing paper, frazzled by tornadic winds, haphazard clumps throughout the forest east of the lake.
I was surprised to find so many singing birds this late in the evening. Great-crested flycatchers, an Acadian flycatcher, song sparrow, blue jays, crows, swallows, gnatcatchers, a brown thrasher, brown-headed cowbirds, incessant chickadees, downies, and red-bellied woodpeckers.
A lone red-shouldered hawk guarded the bog from its favorite perch. A crow dove at it several times but never dislodged it.
The storm debris will eventually be covered by forest debris. Slowly, over time, nature’s secret weapon, it will all be covered and consumed by earth.