A Mighty Wind

The streets of our city were littered with debris again. Branches and trash cans were strewn about, awaiting the day that they could all be carted away and order could be restored to the chaos from the night before. It happened over a couple of nights. The first one was a very literal storm with winds of up to seventy miles an hour that knocked things down and turned things over. The second was the trailing end of a peaceful protest that didn't stay that way. Windows were broken and fires were set.
No police were needed to quell the wind storm. The riot squad responded to the fires in the street. Both events could have been predicted, forecasted, but they both left the city worse for the wear the next day. Atmospheric disturbances don't specify targets, and sometimes I wonder if angry mobs are any more discerning.
Somebody has to clean this mess up. It won't be done for free. The costs for the people who are making their way to and from work to earn a paycheck haven't been figured into the equation. When a grocery store is closed and the employees are sent home because of a broken window, it doesn't matter if it was a tree branch that came through or a rock. Those people aren't getting paid. Force of Nature or Act of Force, the result is the same.