September 27, 2022

Natural Signs

When I was young, someone once told me that if you watched the birds and animals, you could tell the type of weather coming in. I didn’t think much about this at the time, but these days, now that I’ve discovered that being slow and steady is better than rushing in 30 directions at the same time, I’m intrigued.

Autumnal storms are strange things here. They can blow in full of anger and power, but then the minute the rain starts, they become docile and gentle. Other storms will build up so gently that you won’t expect them to be anything, yet they blow down trees.

So far, from what I can tell, any time the weather shifts, the birds decide to have a gathering, mixing with different flocks. The neighbor cats seem to know just which bushes to check out. The four-footed one is my best gauge currently. If the storm is going to be mild, she stays with us in whatever room we are in. If the storm is going to be more intense, the four-footed builds up a pillow-fort of sorts and hunkers down in a dark room.

I’m pretty certain there are more things the animals can tell us about storms or other shifts in the weather, but I’m not nearly learned enough about these things. At least not yet; I’m not.

July 24, 2021

Storms And Dogs

We had a massive storm roll through during the night. I know this not so much because it woke me up, instead because it disturbed the four-footed one who felt that I needed to know. She had decided the best way to get my attention was to walk on me.

Once I was up, the four-footed one decided we shouldn’t stay in bed. We needed to get up and go to the sitting room. However, that did not satisfy her either. The four-footed one insisted that we needed to be under the table. This action wasn’t an issue for her. However, I do not fit under the coffee table, so I had to settle for sitting near the coffee table while holding my hand out to the four-footed one. Did I mention this involved sitting on the floor? The floor, naturally, is hard. My bed isn’t hard. It is soft and welcoming and exactly what I wanted at 12:30 am. The four-footed one did not care about this; however, she only cared about being safe for the duration of the storm–all two hours of it.

Naturally, once the storm was over, the four-footed one was fine with going back to bed, where she fell asleep without issue. But, unfortunately, my body was in too much pain to give in to sleep right away. Not that the four-footed one cared as she snored gently and stole more space.

July 18, 2021

After The Storms

The four-footed one snuggled down into her bedding and sighed as if she’d just found the magical place in the world where she could truly relax. Chances are, it felt that way to her after the lightning storm had spent the better part of an hour putting on a special display for us. But, alas, the four-footed one isn’t into light shows or loud rolling thunder.

As the storm moved on, the four-footed one had come from around the safety of my chair to her bedding. She cautiously approached the windows first; after all, one must check and be sure it is safe before one settles down for a rest.

Discovering all was safe in her world, she had snuggled herself down and sighed the sigh of one who’s been under immense pressure. Judging from deeply she had settled herself down; I figured she was in for a long rest. Not that I blamed her. Storms require a lot of nervous energy from her petite body. Exerting all this energy takes a considerable toll on her, and she must fix it with a drink or two of water and then a long sleep. I knew her sleep would be profound, and as if to prove I was right, she started snoring. Knowing better than to wake a snoring dog, I let her rest and read.

April 25, 2021

Storming In

Something is energizing me that comes in the moments before a storm. Just before the calm and stillness come, I can feel a shift. It’s as if the winds are whipping up even though they aren’t. I tingle with anticipation. Then again, I love a good storm. I used to enjoy them immensely.

Since the four-footed has come into my life, I feel a bit different about storms. I still love them, and I still get energized by them. However, I also don’t wish for them the same way because the four-footed one dislikes storms as passionately as I adore them.

Beloved isn’t as thrilled by storms as I am, but he also isn’t afraid of them either. He will hunker down with the four-footed one if I want to watch the lightning perform artwork in the sky. He will sit with me in a dark room and watch the lightning flicker and cast a glow into the room if the four-footed one has gone into her kennel den away from us.

I grew up in a place where wild storms would suddenly whip up and last from a few seconds to hours. To me, the power of nature is held in awe, respected, and enjoyed at a base level, provided it doesn’t cause harm or damage.

July 4, 2020

Storming In

The storm rolled in rather quickly. We had seen it cresting up over the hills and was surely hours away. And then within minutes, the sky was black with heavy clouds, the wind had whipped up, and the storm was upon us.

If we needed any further proof of the storm’s quick advance, all we had to do was check on the four-footed one. She had been resting peacefully in front of the door when we saw the storm in the distance. When the darkened sky meant turning on a light, she had already moved to her safe spot, one of her beds, which is under a heavy table. Frankly, in terrible weather in this area is ideal for us as well.

Beloved darted outside to lock up the shed and lock the outside shutters while I shut the windows. The house would grow stuffy as the wind howled, but we would be dry and safe as the storm did whatever it needed to do.

Most storms here last a short time, but this one held the promise of lasting longer and stronger than what we had experienced. The four-footed one had pulled her favorite stuffed toy in with her as she hunkered down for the duration, as if to verify what we felt.

It lasted for hours, with high pitched shrieks, lashing rain and plenty of thunder. As always, once the storm was done, the air was fresh and everything was densely green.

March 17, 2020

Dealing With It

I love the local people here; they just get on with getting on. Last night an intense windstorm was predicated on coming through our area. Our neighbors secured items in their yards, closed their shutters, and then sat outside to wait for the storm.

Beloved also went to secure items in the yard, but his approach was different. He tried to secure everything down to the ground. He closed and latched the shutters; he swept around the house so no debris would hit it. Then he came in to hunker down and wait out the storm.

We could hear our neighbors chatting casually outside as the winds picked up. Beloved was moving furniture into the center of the rooms, just in case, as he put it. Our neighbors were just starting to get into their houses.

The winds picked up and became the only thing we could hear. It lasted for hours.

In the early, pale light of dawn, we stepped out to see the damage. A few trees were no longer upright, a few roof tiles were missing, and some shutters were hanging at odd angles, but our neighborhood seemed to be okay overall.

Our neighbors calmly opened their shutters, removed the stakes and such from the ground, and went on about their days. Before he could do that same thing, Beloved had to also move the furniture back into place in the house.

August 15, 2019

Enlightening Flushes

Growing up, my mother had a thing about water during an electrical storm. She wouldn’t wash clothes during a storm, which I sort of understand due to electrical equipment. She refused to wash dishes during that time, saying that water would conduct electricity and she had no plans of being zapped.

When I was older, I would ignore my mother’s warnings and take showers during electrical storms because why not. I had never heard of anyone experiencing anything horrible with storms. And most houses were grounded so what was the harm. My mother would be mortified if she knew I had a shower during an intense storm just a few weeks back!

However now I see there may be something to this. After seeing a news cast about exploding toilets. Yes that’s right. A toilet exploded after a lightening strike. Thankfully the toilet was not in use at that time. And yes technically the toilet was struck, rather it was the septic tank that took the strike.

As a result of the strike, methane gasses caused by feces trapped in the pipe, caused the explosion which resulted in the toilet going boom.

Now we don’t have a septic tank, however I don’t think I will ever view the toilet as an innocent thing again.

August 7, 2019

Falling

The sky started falling on an otherwise ordinary, boring Thursday. There was no warning, no advanced signs and one standing on a corner with a sign to say the sky would start falling that day.

It just fell. Slowly at first. In small pieces, smaller than the size of a pea. You couldn’t be sure at first what was happening. Small little pieces of the sky pinged down on the ground, cars and anything else in the way.

Perhaps because it was hardly noticed, or maybe it was due to gravity, larger pieces of the sky started falling. Pieces that were the size of golf balls and heavy enough to crack windows or cause bruises. These were the pieces that people noticed as they ran to seek cover in buildings. The sky continued to fall, pieces getting bigger still before slowly turning back into smaller pieces again.

The sky still looked the same despite the fact that the ground was littered with pieces of it. Beloved noted that the sky liked us as none of the windows were broken, although two of the flower pots had been damaged in the episode. The four-footed one went with him to investigate the outside world and brought back some of the sky in her mouth. She dropped it on one of her blankets before settling next to it.

As she crunched happily on freshly fallen sky, our neighbors came over to tell us three of there windows were smashed in the hail storm and they wondered how we were doing. Beloved pointed to the small, curious looking figurine I had picked up a few days earlier in the market, as he told our neighbors that the figurine was a deity. A water deity, a well pleased water deity, happy to be in a good home, so we were spared.

I’m pretty sure they missed the glint in his eye when he was saying this because they asked us where in the market we had found it. Next he will be telling them how to please the small god with sacrifice.

June 29, 2019

Early Birds, Early Worms

The storms rolled in during the wee hours of the morning. The time when most people are peacefully resting. Or, the time that the four-footed one likes to get up and get her day started. She is a firm believer in the early bird theory. Although I freely admit I am glad that she is not into worms!

So we were awake when the storm decided to build to an amazing crescendo. We weren’t fussed by it either, we were drying off from the intense rain which had saturated us for the few minutes we were out. Hence the need to dry off. Not that the four-footed one was complaining. For her that means being wrapped up in a towel, rubbed and snuggled. All things she likes to have done after she has been soaked.

She wasn’t fussed by the flashing of the lightening either. She was content. Until a startled Beloved joined us. You see the crescendo woke him up. He had been sleeping on the side of the bed when it jolted him. The fall onto the floor ensured he was wide awake and not interested in worms of any sort.

He was, however, in need of a bit of a cuddle with the four-footed one while I made him tea. Yes friends, it was that bad. He let me make his tea for him. Almost unheard of unless he is very ill or very exhausted. He claimed, later, that it was shock that allowed him to let me make his tea.

So the three of us sat there watching and marveling at the raw beauty and power of the storm that lasted for hours. We didn’t worry about losing electricity or anything. We just watched it in awe and wonder. And decided that the rest of the day would be a do whatever we wanted type of day. Which frankly can be the best types of days. Especially when the storm decided to hang around the rest of the day in a weakened state.

January 8, 2018

Stormy Inside

I sat in the dark room, letting the flash of lightning illuminate things. The thunder seemed to rumble the window seat I was on. And somewhere in the deeper shadows, Beloved stood. I knew when he came in the room something wasn’t right. I could tell by the way he moved.

With the night flash of lightning I could read his face, displeasure or uncertainty straining his features. I wasn’t really sure and somehow the way he moved closer still caught my breath. I wanted to hold a hand out, beseeching him to stay. But some thing held me back at the same time.

It isn’t that I wanted him to go, every part of me wanted him to stay. But only if he wanted to stay. And as the window seat trembled again I could no longer be sure if that was from the thunder, my thudding heart of his heavy step. And maybe it didn’t really matter.

Id asked him, a while ago, to come away with me and come away he had. And now he had asked the same, but I wasn’t ready to leave it all. I wasn’t so sure I wanted to leave things behind as I ran closer to where he was.

And so we had fought earlier. The weather providing a storm to match my mood. When the storm had started he was packing books, carefully and methodically. His back stiff with all the unsaid words. Who could blame him though, he had come when I had asked him to with me?

And as he packed, I came up to my favorite seat and watched the storm darken the sky, matching my mood. I knew I should have been packing, or at least helping, yet there I sat. The minutes ticked by, lost in the sounds of the storm and soon the noise of his packing stopped or was lost to the storm.

But I knew when he made his way up to the room. And I knew he wouldn’t ask again. I knew him, who he was for so long it was like knowing myself, all the good parts. And still not knowing the right way to fix this all so I shrugged my shoulders and offered up the severity of the storm. Surely he would see the sense in waiting it out.

After all neither of us wouldn’t give an inch easily, unbending steel and so much to lose. He offered up a quiet “right” and shifted out of my line of sight, sighing as he did so. And it should be so easy, to go to him, but sometimes it’s hard to know if I should stay or go.