There seem to be two very diverse camps of opinion about this natural phenomenon. Some folks are terrified and at the first rumble will dive for cover. I actually worked with someone once who admitted to crawling under her bed whenever she was home and a storm kicked up! At work, it was all she could do not to disappear under her desk. She would turn an unhealthy shade of pale and tremble uncontrollably until it was over.
Then there’s those of us who consider each storm a cause for celebration and don’t want to miss any of it. (I guess I just gave my own affiliation away.)
I know thunderstorms are frequently accompanied by lightning and torrential rain. I realize that these elements can cause massive damage and I do not relish that aspect, just to clarify.
But, those other ‘harmless’ storms just get my blood cranking.
It’s a very warm summer day. People are actually wishing it would rain to bring a break in the heat. The air changes perceptibly and suddenly. Everything goes suddenly quiet, even the birds have ceased to sound. A sense of expectation creeps over you, the calm before the storm, seriously.
You feel the electricity in the air; the hairs on your arm stand up, a whiff of ozone floats by. A distance rumble pervades and breaks the silence. Then Crash! Boom! The sound of a cannon salute smashes the atmosphere. At this point, a spear of lightning may or may not split the sky way too close for comfort but this is what gets your adrenalin pumping and unconsciously you are counting; 1001, 1002…
Even though you are expecting the next strike, you jolt when it crashes just above your head. There’s that tinge of sulfur again, like a just struck match.
Growing up, we lived on a hill with a wraparound front porch. On a clear day we had an unobstructed view of Lake Champlain with the Adirondacks beyond. At the first hint of a storm, my dad and I would hurry to the porch and pull two chairs to the spot where we had the best view of the lake. There we’d sit entranced, throughout the storm, whether it lasted minutes or hours. We’d witness each lightning strike off the blue turned gray waters with cheers. Each rumble and boom with an aaaaahhhhh…… or an oooohhhhh.
Each storm had it’s own personality. Some had great wind and/rain in tow. Some only made noise. Some kept us up all night as lighting flew like javelins at a jousting match, above the lake and between the Adirondacks and the Green Mountains behind us. We were a captive audience, caught there in the center; cheering and applauding like spectators at a Roman coliseum lions and gladiators exhibition. Thunder, shaking the ground beneath the house and the sky above. I guess we figured there was nothing we could do to stop it so we might as well enjoy it!
Now, if I am home and I notice that change in the air, that finger trailing my spine sensation, I drop everything and head to the back porch where I pull up a chair for the best view over the mountains!