The kids were still asleep. My breakfast was half-eaten when a sound intruded on the quiet around me. I sat still for a minute, alert. Within seconds, the weather went from cloudy and peaceful to uproarious.
I stood up and went to the window, where I saw trees bowed from the force of the wind.
I couldn't help myself. I wanted to know what it felt like. I opened the door.
It's a very strange feeling, going from complete calm to complete chaos in one step.
For 20 minutes that wind howled, and just as abruptly as it began, it stopped. Calm and peaceful reign once again.
Hubby called a bit later and asked if we had any bad weather. The north side of Indy was pelted with up to 4 inches of rain. We received next to none.
It was then that he told me of the rare derecho. It must be rare, seeing as how I've lived in the Midwest almost my entire life and never heard of it. (And spellcheck has currently underlined it.) In short, it is a "land hurricane", and there was a watch out for it in our neck of the fields. Word is still out if that is what occurred, but I'm going to say, "No. It wasn't." (What, you didn't know I was a weather expert? (I'm not.))
Weather simply fascinates me. I remember sitting in our garage when we were young, watching storms rage through the neighborhood. I was mesmerized by the fierce lightening, the booms of thunder, and the steady splashing of the rain.
The adrenaline really gets rushing when the lightening hits right on top of you, so there is no warning when, a millisecond later, the thunder scares you right out of your seat, the vibrations of it all tearing through you.
But, the storm has passed. The kids are outside playing. It is the long-awaited "camp day" in which they spend the entire day in their forts. They have drug all manner of supplies, including (most importantly) the first-ever box of Pop-tarts allowed in our house, out to their little dens.
It should be a nice, calm day.
Have a lovely day, yourselves!