This has been a pretty exciting week for storm-lovers. We've had four of them, two so severe the tornado sirens went off (and, unfortunately, an area town withstood some pretty serious damage).
I haven't always been fond of storms. I remember lying between my mom and dad with my fingers over my eyes and my thumbs jammed in my ears, trying to create my own sensory deprivation chamber. At some point, though, I became smitten and would await them with anticipation. When the leaves showed their pale undersides and the air started to smell like rain, I'd run out to our yard and look on as towering, slate-colored walls of cloud slid in from the west.
I'm not sure what's unique about Midwestern storms, but there's definitely something that sets them apart from the flash floods we endured on the East Coast. The rain here falls sideways and it's accompanied by tree-bending winds. Those are fascinating, but my favorite parts are my erstwhile arch-nemeses: lightning -- long, webbed cracks across the open sky -- and thunder -- booms so powerful they reverberate in my chest. Perhaps the most incredible part of all, however, is that on their tails often come the most incredible sunsets.
Oh, did I say four storms? Make that five. I'd better sign off and find our flashlights. It may be wise for us to incorporate them into our living room decor.