So I've heard it's not nice to fool Mother Nature, but much like a professional athlete's loyalty, that's a deal that only goes one way. When it comes to dealing with us puny mortals, Mom can do whatever she wants.
Let's face it. Except for the occasional Gandhi or Mr. Rogers, human beings are an arrogant bunch. We like to think we know what we're doing. Nowhere is this presumption more evident than in our man-made structures: we carefully plan and meticulously build these mammoth edifices of concrete and steel. And when that final bolt is secured, we slowly nod, smug and satisfied that this framework will stand for centuries.
And then it rains, or snows or blows and Mother Nature slaps our cute little knickknack back into a pile of nothing.
The most recent example of Mother Nature's dominance is the pillar in front of Uncle Harvey's Mausoleum. That thick column of concrete and stone sat nestled in Lake Superior for almost 100 years until last February when the lake decided it wanted it back. A couple laps of frozen waves and POOF, no more pillar.
Remember the crib structure that sat underwater for decades until Lake Superior belched it up near Fitger's a few years back? We all flocked down to the rocky shore to take pictures on it, near it and in it, until the lake changed her mind one stormy night and redeposited that 2,000-pound bulk down on the corner beach in Canal Park like it was nothing more than a wet cardboard box.
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The awning at the Greysolon Plaza hung proudly over Superior Street for decades until Mother Nature dropped snowflake after snowflake after snowflake on it one December evening a few years back. Now the face of Greysolon looks like a clean-shaven Jay Fosle.
And then there's the Great Northland Flood of 2012, when someone must have really done something to make Mother mad. In just a few rain-soaked hours she mangled the swinging bridge at Jay Cooke State Park, swallowed entire cars on Skyline Parkway and took Haines Road, an engineering marvel that was ingeniously maneuvered through mountainous West Duluth rock, washing it away like a child wringing out a washcloth.
Words like "global warming" or "wrath of God" get tossed around every time these wicked weather phenomena occur and maybe one side of that argument is correct. I don't profess to have the answers. The only ones who know for sure are Mother Nature and Rush Limbaugh and only one of them is talking. (And talking. And talking.) But I am always awestruck whenever it's demonstrated just how meaningless and insignificant human beings really are, despite our belief to the contrary. So let's drop the attitude and accept our place in the universe:
Somewhere between monkeys and angels.
Brian Matuszak is the founder of Rubber Chicken Theater and invites you to follow him and his theater company on Twitter at twitter.com/rchickentheater, like them on Facebook at Rubber Chicken Theater, and visit their website at www.RubberChickenTheater.com . He was going to grab an umbrella today but decided instead to hide under a desk.
