Yesterday we had a terrible micro-burst in my neighborhood; it didn’t go rotational so it really wasn’t a tornado, but the winds were up to 78 m.p.h. at Wrigley Field. I was sitting in one of the second floor front bedrooms at the desk, writing, when the sky went greenish-black. A whistling wind came from the west, picked up the 4.5-foot-diameter tree just to the east of our house, and uprooted it easily.
By the time I got down to the basement for safety, it was all over.
My gorgeous little street has the dubious distinction of being the worst hit in this storm; of the beautiful 100-year-old trees that line our street, three-quarters of them are down:
Happily, I don’t know of anyone being injured, although there’s plenty of damage to garages and cars.