Sound and Fury
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing. ~Macbeth
I saw this quote this morning and got to thinking about 'sound and fury'. What could embody that more than the sounds of a hurricane beating at your front door? I've had friends and family members ask me to describe a hurricane and I came up short on words. How do you describe a hurricane to someone who's never been through one? There aren't words forceful enough to depict the screaming of the wind as it pummels the house or the rain and debris as they beat against the windows and rattle the backdoor.
Anyone who has lived through a hurricane immediately conjures up pictures and sounds in their minds of wave surges, howling winds, driving rain, flying debris, traffic lights swinging erratically as the fingers of the storm strive to pluck them from the wires.
Only someone who has survived such a storm knows how it feels to walk outside when the storm is finally over. To feel the sun on your face and the calmness afterwards that is in direct counterpoint to the chaos you feel inside when you look at your home and start to judge the damage. Who but a survivor can possibly understand how it feels to come back to your neighborhood after a storm and see the devastation. Perhaps your home or your neighbor's home nothing but rubble.
Despite the 'sound and fury' of a storm, there is relief in its wake and the rebuilding begins. Preparation for the next storm takes up where the last left off, hoping next time we'll protect ourselves better, we'll find sturdier wood to cover our windows. Maybe next time, the storm surge won't come so far up the beach. Maybe next time, the storm will bypass us completely. We satisfy ourselves with these small hopes as the rest of the world watches in horror and awe, unaware of the real, unrelenting power of a hurricane.