Storms

We have some pretty good summer, thunderstorms here in central South Carolina.  We had some yesterday afternoon.  Sitting here in my cube at work I could hear the thunder rumbling off in the distance and an occasional, sharp bang that comes when something gets struck by the lightening.

It started me thinking about storms.  See, I enjoy a good thunder storm.  I love being outside (in a safe location, of course) when it is raining hard, the wind whipping the tree limbs around and thunder and lightening fighting it out in the sky.

I guess the thunderstorms that set the tone for my love of storms happened when we lived at the Spring Knob forestry tower.  The top of that hill was not immensely high but plenty high enough to where the bottom of the storm clouds was down the hill from the house.  We were located right up in the clouds close up to all the thunder and lightening.  I can recall some storms where the thunder was so close and so loud the windows would rattle and the house would shake. 

During the storms the air had such a special feel and smell you get no other tiem or place.  That air is the reward for being outside and braving the storm.  Of course if you were not careful where you were outside to brave the storm you also had a chance to be struck by lightening.  I liked being in a house by an open window, on the porch under a roof or out in the woods in under a rock overhang.   The rock overhang was best.  There one not only had the fresh feel and smell of the air and the noice of the thunder but the wind was whipping all the branches in the trees around with the rain pattering as it found its way through the trees to the ground.  I've had some really nice times sitting under a rock with a little fire built just sitting, thinking and enjoying being out in the storm.

I think most of those special places are gone now.  Victims of strip mining which has torn the tops off most of my childhood hills.  The top of the hill there at Spring Knob is now a couple of hundred feet lower than it was when I was a kid living on top of that hill.  Many places are gone in fact though they live on, fresh and clear, in my memories.

I still love the storms.  I don't get out in them like I used to do.  But, there are times, the air still feels and smells just like it did when I was a kid.   Those are special times filled with good memories.