Weather Watching

I am an admitted weather watcher.  I don't go chasing storms, but I love to watch the storms roll in.  I don't go to the basement unless I have to and only then when I think there is no other choice. Perhaps someday the windows are going to blow in on me and the building collapse around me.  I'd rather watch it come than to be in the basement with no windows, not seeing a thing and having the entire structure fall on my head.  (I've been telling the parents of my students for year, "Never surprise a firstborn.")

When Chelsea was alive, I would be out on the deck watching storms roll in, marveling at the cloud formations and loving the change in wind direction, speed, and temperature.  Chelsea would stand on her hind legs, which put her just about eye-to-eye with me, and say, "Mom, this is stupid. Get inside."

Here's a picture of the storm that came through last Friday evening.  The wind picked up and by the time it was over, any tree that had a weak spot had been found out.  There were branches and some pretty fair-sized limbs in the streets when I went to my writing group meeting. (As you can see, Chelsea is not here to stop me anymore.)

After the dry spell we had this summer, I am not complaining about any form of rain that falls.  It's the heavy winds that I occasionally wonder about.  We had a couple of local neighborhoods without power after this straight-line windstorm blew through.

Thanks for visiting with me,

Kathi