Weather Gods are Angry
June 3, 2008
From where I sit I can hear both the booms of a distant thunderstorm and the hissing of some scud-running airliners trying to make it into the Denver airport after being delayed. Storms have come to the area after pounding a few towns north of here just over a week ago. Those poor people who lost their houses are probably re-living the terror of losing their homes. I hope the storms are light and pass quickly through the area.
Earlier I came into the kitchen and noticed our neighbors pointing up into the sky. At first I wondered if they were looking at a rainbow. Then the my Midwestern past came jumping out from the back of my mind and made me worry that it was something more. So out the front door I went and found a big orange and white billowing cloud. I have never seen a cloud grow up and out so fast (it looked like an inflating balloon). The sun was warming the top of the storm as the bottom was cooling in the shade provided by the distant mountains (distant being some 15 miles).
For twenty minutes or so it puffed up and started to blow in out direction. But as the sun started to sink the cloud fell apart and floated to the East. As I look out toward the East, I can see the storm with flashing from the inside, top to bottom.
Like in Texas, the storms here can form fast and move quick. The Denver area is the breeding ground for the giant fronts that sweep the plain states. We see them form and rush to the the East where the pound the miles of wheat and corn.
As I see them go I remember the times in Indiana where we hid in the hallway with a blanket over our heads. The police radio was blaring away with reports of down power lines and houses set on fire by lightening. In my small mind it felt like Armageddon. I felt scared and saw the worry in my parents faces. I probably would have felt okay, but seeing that made me worry that much more.
Looking back I realize that the look on my parents faces taught me that life is dangerous. So in the end, that probably did me some good since I tend to worry about storms now and make sure that we (the family) are safe. Which is just now producing the mental reminder to find the flashlight.
