I used to hate storms as a kid. Mom told a story about how I could hear thunder before anyone else. She said I could be outside playing on a beautiful clear day, and suddenly I would come running into the house holding my hands over my ears and screaming. I would throw myself onto the couch and try to bury my head, crying and screaming the whole time. Sure enough, it would soon start clouding up and a storm would hit. Weird. I sometimes still hear thunder before others, but not that intensely...and I'm thankful for that.
Now, I kind of like storms. I find lightning fascinating, which isn't necessarily a good thing. Back when I was so scared of storms, I lived in areas where you rarely heard of a lightning strike. Now that I love to watch lightning streak across the sky, I live in an area where strikes aren't rare at all. My timing just isn't too great.
I kind of envy storm chasers. I would love to spend just one day with a group of chasers. I know it's crazy, but what a rush it must be, to see the raw power of nature up close and personal like that. Scary, yes; but beautiful as well.
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