By Cassie Weiss
Every day I thank the world that I’m alive, that I live in such a fantastic place where money isn’t plentiful, but there is money around.
Where having a roof over my head and a warm bowl of chili in my hands isn’t a far off hope or dream.
But on top of that, I’m thankful for Alberta, this land-locked piece of the universe.
When the only major disaster you can claim is a flood, I think we are doing pretty good.
Now don’t think I’m scoffing at the flood. That is not the case. I was a part of it. We are only now getting our home back together after the flood.
It was a devastating disaster like none other, and I will remember it when I’m old and grey complaining to my grandkids.
But the fact is, if southern Alberta only has to worry about flood waters gracing her shores, I’m okay with that.
Now, the possibility for a major forest fire is also imminent, with the Cypress Hills so close, and even though I reside in Medicine Hat, those hills will always be my first love.
Should I see them go up in smoke my heart would be broken.
Luckily the volunteer fire department, and the fire crews they bring in each summer, are fantastic at what they do, keeping the forest safe from the tragic fate it may one day suffer.
Prairie fires are also a danger to us, but once again, the fantastic men and women who patrol our region keep us pretty safe, and it has been rare that these fires have caused whole towns to evacuate, like the forest fires of B.C., and California.
The worst we saw in way of fire was a few years ago when Lethbridge’s West Side was threatened, but was never actually touched by flames.
Yesterday headlines popped up about a major typhoon touching the Philippines, with wind gusts of over 250 km.
It is so tragic, the disasters these waterbound countries face, from typhoons, to tsunamis, and hurricanes for their northern counterparts.
New Orleans is still recovering from Hurricane Katrina, New York from Sandy.
It makes me happy that all this area may face is a bit of water and fire, in relation to what it could be.
Even tornados don’t touch us like our neighbours to the south.
I’ll take the flood anyday, opposed to my house completely uprooted, laying in the next field with a pair of ruby red slippers sticking out from the wreckage.
Mother Nature has a way of not being forgotten, and I hope for the best for those living through this typhoon. Mother Nature, she gets you every time.