Thunderstorms

"And the thunder rolls."

-- Garth Brooks

Blackbirds and storm clouds 4-30-14

"We pledge to fight 'blue-sky' thinking wherever we find it.

Life would be dull if we had to look up at cloudless monotony day after day."

-- Gavin Pretor-Pinney, The Cloudspotter's Guide

"Take long walks in stormy weather ... if you would keep your spirits up."

-- Henry David Thoreau,

On the Duty of Civil Disobedience

"Tut, Tut, looks like rain."

-- A.A. Milne

My grandma was seriously afraid of thunderstorms.

She'd get all panicky and crawl under the kitchen table to wait them out, usually dragging her Schnauzer, Peppy, and my little sisters along to hide out with her.

 But she couldn't convince me to hide.

 Hell, no.

I was at the picture window or out on her front porch watching the show.

I love thunderstorms.

I love watching them.

I love smelling them.

I love hearing them.

I especially love the sound of thunder, which is why spring storm season is one of my favorite times of the year.

Thunderstorm season.

I kind of forget about them all winter, and then I hear that first low, dull, trembling roll of one approaching from the distance and I remember. I remember how hungry I am for a good thunderstorm.

We had about six different types of weather yesterday. I liked the stormy bits best. 

There is something decidedly primal and powerful and bad ass about thunderstorms. 

When the National Weather Service announces a severe storm warning, I dig it. When they show a map of where the worst part of a thunderstorm will be, I secretly hope that our little town will be smack in the middle, that we'll be the deep red smear at its rough, tough center.

I don't even mind getting caught out in a storm. It's happened to me plenty often when I'm out for a long run or on my bike, miles from home, with no other choice but to head right into it. I love driving into a thunderstorm. Because northern Ohio is so endlessly flat, the view of lighting at night spreads across the horizon like a laser-light show in the dark sky. It's better than any fireworks display.

One of my all-time favorite things is falling asleep to the sounds of a good thunderstorm. Big and bad and thunder-y and lightning-y. To me, it's better than any lullaby. 

I'm always a little disappointed and frustrated when I hear a storm coming and all the indicators look promising that it'll hit us, and then it peters out. 

Fizzles. 

Bummer.

But when one rolls in and parks itself for a while ... that's the stuff I like. It's satisfying. It's like Nature is getting some serious shit off her chest and having a good thorough emotional purge.

Some people are uncomfortable in the presence of a storm like that.

Not me. 

Maybe it's because I know the feeling.

So you'll never hear me telling a storm to stop.

I'll be the one saying "Go ahead, Honey. Let it out."