I suppose it has been a while since I've written here. Its been an eventful time in my life. Some good, mostly bad.
My brother died. My hero for all my life. My best friend. Much more of a dad to me than my father ever was. My younger nephew was killed by a car and it was probably his fault. The woman who meant the world to me died and I had know warning. I found out I have stage 3 Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis with projected life expectancy of 2 - 5 years. I found out my low blood pressure has lead to Mini-Strokes for years and different parts of my brain are deteriorating (thank goodness for spell check or you'd see just how far down I've gone). Despite all this, the state of South Carolina (In its infinite knowledge of the condition and concern) has determined I'm still able to work. Whoopee.
But that is just a general background and nothing really specific to this post.
Here in Lexington, SC today and tonight have been stormy. Sitting here now at my computer with all the other lights off so I can see through the wide open patio blinds to the growing darkness outside. Darkness enhanced by a heavy fog or very low lying clods which limits vision to around fifty feet.
Its nostalgic, its a reminder of all the good things and also all the bad things. Fortunately mostly the good.
Back between summer of 1956 and summer of 1961 we lived in an old log cabin at a forestry tower in rural, south eastern, KY. Place called Spring Knob. Lots of stories about that place but those have been explored earlier or not. But none of them have any place in this narrative. This is about my love of storms.
That cabin was on top of one of the highest hills around. And when we had storms we had some humdingers. The bottom of the clouds were often down the hill from us so we were surrounded by that cottony whiteness, interspersed with vivid flashes of lightening and deafening thunder.
As a small child they scared hell out of me. Somehow, at the same time, I loved them. So exelerating and exciting. Kind of like the attraction of a new roller coaster.
I guess I never really thought about it that much but over the course of my life I find more and more of my memories centering around storms.
In my teens when we'd have a big rain I could move my bed next to the window where I could watch the creek rise up over our foot bridge, up our drive and several feet into the old barn.
In some of those same years I'd go hunting and when a storm rolled in I'd find a convenient rock cliff, start a fire, place my shotgun well away from me, start a fire and sit back and enjoy the wind and rain.
When I bought my house back in '98 it was surrounded by trees. When a storm would come along I'd go to my porch and sit and enjoy the smell of the air, the way the wind whipped the branches of my trees around, have a Bud and a Smoke and just enjoy.
Been a good many years since I smoked or drank Bud but I still love my storms. Not sure what it is but the storms just call to me and the more violent the better.
I've been through more than one hurricane. First was David in Florida 1978 or 1979. '79 I guess. I recall sitting at the kitchen window thinking, "So this is a hurricane? I've seen a hundred worse thunder storms in the Kentucky hills".
I guess the worst was Hugo while I was in the Army at Ft. Jackson in Columbia, SC back in the late 80s. Rode that one out in a moblie home.
Nothing at all so severe since but even the mild storms comfort me. I truly do feel sorry for the victims of storms but, even with that, I do feel a surge of excitement whenever I hear about the possibility of local, severe weather.
There is no debate as to my sanity. I'm batshit crazy as most anyone who knows me can attest. So, I'm sitting here tonight looking out my patio door(window) wishing I was able to just head out into the night and not care where the morning sun finds me.
