Sad news that is, that yet another series of deadly tornadoes has ripped through several south-eastern States. Two hundred people dead in five states as a result of those ferocious weather conditions. We're informed that this type of thing is a regular feature of certain geographies, particularly in parts of the U.S., and that it's just because there's more on the ground to be targeted than ever before that the death toll and the path of destruction grows.

We're aghast when we see the kind of destruction that occurs close to us here in the Ottawa Valley, particularly with our proximity to a wooded ravine where we spend so much of our leisure-activity time. The winds here had the howling resonance of a renegade locomotive, as we made our way through the ravine this morning. The trails were just bristling with detritus the wind had torn from upper tree branches.

We felt ourselves fortunate to get out at all, given the steady rain that had pounded our windows all night, and the ferocity of the thunder-and-lightning storms that had preceded the rain. We woke to an utterly drenched world under dark clouds. But as we were having our breakfast the skies cleared until there was a wide, sparkling sheet of blue with the sun burning off the rainwater that had settled into pools. And the wind gusts seemed to bend the trees in half under their blastingly fierce thrusts.

We cleaned up from breakfast in a hurry and prepared to embark on a ravine excursion before the wind brought in any more rain. It was warm and humid out so we thought we could get away without rain gear, but then thought better of it. Before we set foot out the door the blue was gone, replaced by dirty grey, and the rain came thundering down. We waited, and not too long, and suddenly the ragged grey clouds succumbed to blue again.

One sad sacrifice to the weather was a lofty old pine which sat directly beside the trail at one juncture and which was now ripped in two, having been torn apart by the winds. We could see its interior riddled with insect colonies, yet it had been a healthy enough specimen. Now the snagged stump sat there forlornly and beside it, directly over the trail, the remainder, its many limbs thrust into the ground, holding the trunk aloft and horizontal, sprays of green needles lamenting the unfairness of it all.