When I was growing up, I loved storms. Especially bad ones. There was something exhilarating about living in the country and watching one grow above the horizon until it eventually rolled in. Of course, I didn’t enjoy the yard work that followed, but that was a minor inconvenience to the thrill of watching the storm and occasionally having to take shelter.
I still have that in me, but being an adult means I get to feel the pressure I’m sure my parents felt back then. The last time a big storm brought some damage to our neighborhood, we had huge branches down in the yard, we lost power for three days and a tree fell on our neighbor’s house. The cost and time of clean-up was something I do not want to go through again. The last few weeks have been spent with crossed fingers, hoping that we’ll be spared. Luckily we have so far.
But last weekend, I was lying in bed still asleep when the tornado sirens went off near my house in Dallas. At least I thought they were tornado sirens, but it turns out they’ll activate them even when there’s not a tornado on the ground. I got up and checked for warnings, turned on the TV and had my radio going just in case I lost power. We gathered up the animals in a room, just in case. For a brief moment, I felt like I did when I was kid – watching the radar with my dad and trying to predict just when the worst of it would arrive. Getting that strange excitement of a really bad storm blowing over, and not worrying about broken windshields or falling limbs. Just being present in the face of Mother Nature. Again, we were luckily spared the worst of it and only had some larger branches in the yard (the type that makes you actually have to stop the lawn mower to move).
Still, as exciting as that can be, can we just be through with it already.
Matt Stoker
