I Love a Good Storm

Note: This prompt calls for stories of storm damage, but seeing as I really don’t have any good ones (knock on wood), I’m taking a slight twist…

Hurricane IreneHurricanes fascinate me.  They always have and they always will.

I have been really fortunate in the fact that the countless number of tropical storms and hurricanes I have lived through, I have never suffered any huge hardship from them.  Unfortunately not everyone I know has been so lucky.

This is not to say I’ve never been inconvenienced.  Storms are very inconvenient. I’ve had to patch shingles back onto roofs, cut up and dispose of enormous tree branches, not to mention spend more than a few nights sitting in the middle of the house by the light of an oil lantern listening for any signs of splitting trees or shattering glass from the outside.  I’ve waded waist deep down the main street of my town, and then on the next outing I got smart and kayaked down the main street of my town.

I remember one storm where we were without power for a couple of days longer than had been originally anticipated and my husband was going stir crazy. My only way of staying sane was to jot his antics down on a legal pad so we could laugh about them later with our friends.  The hubby relented and agreed we would by a portable generator after that one.

Twice in my life have I been exactly where the hurricane made land fall and experienced the eye of storm.  Once was during the day, and it was great.  We could get out of the house, check on our neighbors and friends, clean up major debris, retie things that had become loose and generally prepare for round two.  It’s a little bit of a calm, peaceful, perfect day.

But at night, the eye takes on some much more creepy qualities.  What would be a perfect day seems more like the scene setting for a horror movie.  Everything is quiet and pitch black and eerie.  It just feels off, that is the only way to describe it.

As much as I love a good storm, I must also state that if it is predicted to get above a low Cat 3 (and that is debatable), it’s time to leave.  Board up the windows, grab your supplies and go.  It’s not worth the risk.  If you come back and everything is fine, great.  If your house is destroyed, you probably just saved your families’ lives.

I love a hurricane.  I love the raw power blasting through the air, demanding attention, demanding respect.  The sheer chaos fascinates me as much as it scares me and the ability of our planet to create such an intense force of destruction and rebirth leaves me in awe.

Aside:  The featured picture is a picture of Hurricane Irene off the coast of North Carolina in August of 2011.  I was watching the weather up to the moment where the power shut off and told my 10 – 15 pound dogs that if they could just hold on for an hour or so, we would be in the eye and they could go outside and do their business in peace without blowing away.  We waited an hour, two hours, then finally on the third hour I laid a whole bunch of newspaper by the back door to indicate they could use that as the winds continued to howl and shriek for the rest of the night into the morning.  I found out the later that the hurricane had shifted east just enough that it landed near Cape Lookout and we sat churning within the storm wall the entire time.  

Source: Tues Truthiness: Storm Damage

3 thoughts on “I Love a Good Storm

  1. I was hoping you would jump in on this prompt, knowing the part of the world in which you live. Great insight and story (she said, comfortably sitting in perfectly moderate, 65-degree, sunny, calm winds, no clouds Pac.Northwest “weather”).

    Liked by 1 person

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