Clouds: reservoirs of coming storm |
For some time now, I have been disturbed by man’s total disregard about his place in his environment. He has rushed head on into the scales of nature’s balance and scattered everything to the four winds as an angry child might scatter his toys.
A few days ago I happened to be atop a tall hill north of here when the elements were beginning to unleash its fury upon the countryside with strong winds and lashing rains.
During the next 40 minutes, I witnessed a breathtaking spectacle.
Dazzling display
I watched as the storm clouds gathered to form a display of power that dazzled the human mind. I saw a small portion of the awesome power that the Almighty has as His fingertips, and I saw, too, how fragile man was in the presence of this power.
I turned to the west and watched the storm clouds as they hurried, as great war chariots, to form a battle line that reached from horizon to horizon.
I watched as the mighty winds whipped these clouds into a rolling mass, as though the great chariots of war had begun their charge.
I watched as the rushing winds curled the ends of the mass of clouds, as though they were the stragglers of the advancing army. I watched as the thunder rolled across the hills like the sound of 10,000 hoofs of the charging horses. And I watched as the world around me bowed beneath the force of this awesome and splendid display of nature.
Cloud chariots
Onward and onward came the cloud chariots, pushing before them the huge reservoir of water that would soon pour across the land in millions of huge cold drops. And the rushing winds that raced before the rains, bending the trees and bushes, as though telling the world to run and hide.
As I stood there atop this hill and watched the masses of limitless energy take shape, I thought how helpless I must have looked to the Almighty from His place in the clouds.
I thought of man as a whole, and how weak and fragile he was in his small place in the universe. I thought of his helplessness when he was foolish enough to try and match wits with the Creator.
As I braced myself against the rushing winds and the beating rains, I thought of a songwriter in ages past, and how he must have felt when he wrote the famous lyrics: “Rock of Ages, cleft for me, let me hide myself in thee.”
I knew that he too, realized how fragile man was as he sought shelter from a storm such as this among the huge boulders on a mountainside many years ago.
(Singleton, the author of the 1991 book “Of Foxfire and Phantom Soldiers,” passed away at the age of 79 on July 19, 2007. A longtime resident of Monroeville, he was born to Vincent William Singleton and Frances Cornelia Faile Singleton, during a late-night thunderstorm, on Dec. 14, 1927 in Marengo County, graduated from Sweet Water High School in 1946, served as a U.S. Marine paratrooper in the Korean War, worked as a riverboat deckhand, lived for a time among Apache Indians, moved to Monroe County on June 28, 1964 and served as the administrator of the Monroeville National Guard unit from June 28, 1964 to Dec. 14, 1987. He was promoted from the enlisted ranks to warrant officer in May 1972. For years, Singleton’s columns, titled “Monroe County history – Did you know?” and “Somewhere in Time” appeared in The Monroe Journal, and he wrote a lengthy series of articles about Monroe County that appeared in Alabama Life magazine. It’s believed that his first column appeared in the March 25, 1971 edition of The Monroe Journal. He also helped organize the Monroe County Museum and Historical Society and was also a past president of that organization. He is buried in Pineville Cemetery in Monroeville. The column above and all of Singleton’s other columns are available to the public through the microfilm records at the Monroe County Public Library in Monroeville. Singleton’s columns are presented here each week for research and scholarship purposes and as part of an effort to keep his work and memory alive.)
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