I'm not afraid of thunderstorms.
Even when I was a kid, they didn't frighten me much; rather, they signalled that it was time for my sister, my brother, my mom and me to crowd around the living room window and look out, waiting for the too-infrequent lightning bolts to jag across the sky. When one finally lit up the night, we'd count together: "One-one thousand, two-one thousand, three..." until the thunderclap unfolded in a long echoing snarl. "It's three miles away, Mommy! Only three miles!" we'd chorus in delicious half-fear... and on the rare occasions when the bolt and the crash came right on top of each other, we'd cling to each other like scared field mice and wait for the storm to roll on by. (And then the power would usually go out.)
Today was, per the forecasters, supposed to be grey and drizzly and meh. Kind of like the weather we've had for the last few days weeks months freakin' years. Instead, it dawned clear and lovely and so we went to Recycled Gardens (they're closing--waah! but all 1-gallon plants are only $2.50 and the lavenders are a buck a pop--hooray!) and then on a hike and then back home to putter about doing gardenly stuff. I got an Early Girl tomato and a pickling cucumber plant into the ground. (So looking forward to making refrigerator pickles this year. So hoping I can keep this wee cucumberlet alive.) And my personal splurge--a "Nick Shaylor" peony--has replaced my poor sun-hating "Endless Summer" hydrangea, which has been relocated to a nice shady spot.
Then, about half an hour ago, I was fixing dinner when a sudden burst of thunder came growling out of nowhere and made me jump. I put down the knife and went to look out the window. It was just the beginning of what's turning out to be one of the most spectacular storms I can ever remember. The lightning is dashing fast and furious, and the thunder is right on its heels. The rain is sluicing down like monsoon season; the underbellies of the clouds are glowing faint orangey-pink from the city lights, intermittently lit up by the lightning's vast crooked strobes. And I'm not frightened, exactly--more like exhilarated, tinged with that same shivery suspense I felt when I was nine and bundled up with my family in the rocking chair. It can rain all it pleases, so long as it thunders too.
(And now the power will probably go out. This post may be more ephemeral than most...)
Even when I was a kid, they didn't frighten me much; rather, they signalled that it was time for my sister, my brother, my mom and me to crowd around the living room window and look out, waiting for the too-infrequent lightning bolts to jag across the sky. When one finally lit up the night, we'd count together: "One-one thousand, two-one thousand, three..." until the thunderclap unfolded in a long echoing snarl. "It's three miles away, Mommy! Only three miles!" we'd chorus in delicious half-fear... and on the rare occasions when the bolt and the crash came right on top of each other, we'd cling to each other like scared field mice and wait for the storm to roll on by. (And then the power would usually go out.)
Today was, per the forecasters, supposed to be grey and drizzly and meh. Kind of like the weather we've had for the last few days weeks months freakin' years. Instead, it dawned clear and lovely and so we went to Recycled Gardens (they're closing--waah! but all 1-gallon plants are only $2.50 and the lavenders are a buck a pop--hooray!) and then on a hike and then back home to putter about doing gardenly stuff. I got an Early Girl tomato and a pickling cucumber plant into the ground. (So looking forward to making refrigerator pickles this year. So hoping I can keep this wee cucumberlet alive.) And my personal splurge--a "Nick Shaylor" peony--has replaced my poor sun-hating "Endless Summer" hydrangea, which has been relocated to a nice shady spot.
Then, about half an hour ago, I was fixing dinner when a sudden burst of thunder came growling out of nowhere and made me jump. I put down the knife and went to look out the window. It was just the beginning of what's turning out to be one of the most spectacular storms I can ever remember. The lightning is dashing fast and furious, and the thunder is right on its heels. The rain is sluicing down like monsoon season; the underbellies of the clouds are glowing faint orangey-pink from the city lights, intermittently lit up by the lightning's vast crooked strobes. And I'm not frightened, exactly--more like exhilarated, tinged with that same shivery suspense I felt when I was nine and bundled up with my family in the rocking chair. It can rain all it pleases, so long as it thunders too.
(And now the power will probably go out. This post may be more ephemeral than most...)
Amazingly enough all we got of this thunderstorm over here is a little bit of lightning and one roll of thunder. That's it. Nothing else. *sigh* I so wanted a real thunderstorm.
Posted by: Ute | May 25, 2008 at 09:49 AM
That was a pretty cool storm, eh? We watched the dark, dark sky with sunray-drenched foreground while eating dinner on the porch, and then went in the basement to watch a movie. One thunder clap that made the electricity blink also made me rush upstairs to make sure everything was okay, as it sounded like a crash right in our house! Twice the electricity blinked like that, making us restart computers and the TV. I'm glad it didn't go completely out.
Posted by: Elizabeth | May 25, 2008 at 06:33 PM
I still love thunder, even though it is not infrequent here in DC. It makes the world feel on pause, as if you could not accomplish anything boring, because --it's storming--.
In fact, we're about due, but all we're getting is sunny and 72. I can stand it.
Posted by: Herm | May 25, 2008 at 07:42 PM
Once upon a time, not so long ago, I loved a good thunderstorm. Then, once once-peculiar dog tipped toward geriatric and bona fide crazy, causing so much high-pitched commotion at even the faintest whiff of storm that she now requires human sedatives. Now, if it starts to rain and thunder, I have an irresistible urge to sleep in my car. AAAAAARRRRGH!
Posted by: Lori V. | May 25, 2008 at 09:06 PM
I used to LOVE thunder as a wee gal. My mom said that once it started rumbling, I would run to get in bed as it put me right to sleep. Nowadays I'm with the aformentioned poster. My 8 year old dog Molly ( erm! ) has begun to lose control of her fuctions whenever a storm now approacheth. Egh. I'm jealous of your rain though. We need it horribly and even my drought loving Zinnias withered away in our Sahara-like weather.
Posted by: Summer Aiello | May 26, 2008 at 05:27 AM
>>they signalled that it was time for my sister, my brother, my mom and me to crowd around the living room window and look out, waiting for the too-infrequent lightning bolts to jag across the sky.<<
how funny, we did exactly this too. we learned to look out to the north where our view was the most unobstructed and wait for the perfect fork of lightening. i remember it was always somewhat disappointing when UOP had fireworks. they so definitely weren't lightening.
Posted by: azureavian | May 26, 2008 at 10:51 PM
Didn't love it, that's for sure. Thunder makes me super jumpy so I spent the storm in my basement practicing my Torah reading for the upcoming bar mitzvah which made for some funny, dramatic movements as my screwups were emphasized with great, biblical booms of thunder.
Posted by: Magpie Ima | May 26, 2008 at 11:35 PM