A memorable storm hit once when I was caring for my young brothers and sister while Dad and Mom were gone. The stillness and eerie yellow sky should have clued me in, but I waited too long to take action. The winds growled. I gathered the kids like a hen does her chicks and we headed for the porch door. Hand on the knob, I looked out the window to the east. The tall white corn crib lifted up, overturned onto its roof on the other side of the fence, as though a giant hand picked it up and dumped it on its top. At the cave entrance, I heaved that huge door with Herculean strength. We flew down the steps into cold damp safety.
Our family survived numerous lightning strikes. While I was doing dishes one night a streak of white light flashed and struck the clock hanging on the wall beside me, less than two feet away. Another time in high school, lightning knocked out the clothes dryer that sat on the porch, and an outlet on that same L-shaped wall. No spark caught fire, but I remember the blackened wall. Lightning struck that corner of house a third time and did start a fire. We had to call the volunteer fire department.
I admit, I’m one to stand on the porch to this day and watch the sky rather than run to the basement during the blare of sirens. Storms have always electrified me, pun intended.
How about you, do you get a thrill out of stormy weather?