When the tornado sirens went off tonight, this is where I found my dog. He’s an expert at finding excellent hiding places. My other dog cares not about thunder and lightning; he still wanted to play and chase the cats, who themselves weren’t interested in the least that there was potentially terrible weather headed this way. If I could one day be as cool as my cats, that’d be nifty.
I’ve had a long lasting yearning to watch The Wizard of Oz, arguably my favorite movie. Top five, if nothing else. I’ve also been watching a lot of Storm Chasers on Netflix. Yes, I’m one of those people who picks a new series and watches it, soup to nuts, in three days.
After I heard my first tornado siren tonight, I wanted to watch Twister really badly, too. Actually, I think I just wanted to watch a twister, as I stood at the window for the longest time, hoping to see something, but all I saw was terribly dark skies and lots of rain.
I used to be frightened of storms, to the point of stomach aches. In 1998, when I was 12, a tornado came right through the center of my town, ripping up trees, tousling cars. One person died. Though our house was spared (by only about a quarter mile, if that), we weren’t spared of the crazy, constant lightning, green skies, and horizontal rain. It was terrifying to little me, and the nightgown I wore that night I never wore again, afraid that if I did it would bring the tornadoes back.
Now, however, I welcome the idea of storms. I want so badly to see a real tornado; I even toyed with the idea of applying to meteorology school so I could officially chase and study storms for a living. They fascinate me now.
The sky outside is rose, now, and the wind is silent. The danger has yet again passed, and it’s back to regular Thursday night programming. But there’s always next time…who knows, maybe I’ll get swept away to Oz, just in time to follow the yellow brick road and realize that there is, indeed, no place like home.