A Sad Southland

A cold front moved in yesterday, and by evening, low-level clouds were rapidly gathering in the sky.

I stepped outside last night for a few moments, and church bells were chiming in the distance. Their ringing had a solemn, almost mourning sound.

Today was even more gray, more inclement and more cold. Frankly, it’s fitting weather for what’s been happening here recently.

Counties are on edge as police hunt for an armed man still at large, and with one hell of a plan. Police are diligently working non-stop, as they always do, but with an increased presence that you can’t miss even if you tried. The skies, after a long week of tension, decided they can’t take it anymore. They’re sad, and they are weeping for us all: for the innocent, for the wounded, for the dead, for those keeping loved ones’ memories alive.

The sadness turned to anger and reached a boiling point today; hail rained down from the heavens, accumulating as though it was a freak snowstorm. The aggravation in the atmosphere made me wonder if we wouldn’t hear the finale to a terrible week by late afternoon. No such luck yet.

Whatever the ending to this story, you know it won’t be a good one. The best we can hope for is for no more dead, no more lives stolen. Tonight, I am thankful for the tireless searching and devoted protection of the law enforcement teams who are trying to put a halt to the Southland insanity which has reigned this week. Prayers for peace, hope for resolution.

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