Tuesday, August 05, 2003Talking about the weatherAbout two and a half weeks ago, I'm down at the other end of the house, getting some work done. A gray afternoon, not raining right then though there had been quite a bit of rain earlier in the day, not to mention the preceding 2-3 days. It's late afternoon, the radio's on, music's playing. Abruptly, the music goes silent. Completely silent -- no static, just a carrier wave. Dead air. Seconds pass, the silence becomes a series of piercing beeps. Loud, designed to attract attention. A pause, then someone from the national weather service begins a flash flood warning. A line of thunderstorms, they say, is making its way through northeastern N.Y. and western Vermont, bringing rainfall heavy enough that rivers and streams, already swollen from previous days' rainfall, might rise up and go wild. Felt kind of eerie to be sitting up on top of this hill, where floods are not likely in any weather, listening to a purposely flat, unemotional voice instructing people living near rivers to consider seeking higher ground. Two days ago, Sunday -- again, late afternoon. A hazy day with cloud-laden skies, letting sun through now and then. Darker clouds appear from the west, looming low, ominous, the light outside dimming. Distant thunder begins sounding. Distant, but moving -- it becomes clearer as the minutes pass -- in this direction. The sky darkens further, the thunder moves nearer. I'm wondering if it might be a good idea to unplug computer/stereo. As if in answer, a peal of thunder starts up to the west, somewhere over the woods that extend from the other side of the road over the dome of the hill, and goes on and on, getting louder, more threatening, rolling across the sky to the other side of the valley, echoes of it still resonating to the west. One of the creepiest thunderclaps I've heard in years and years. It fades out, another one starts up, as nastily sinister as the first, also doing the rolling-across-the-sky thing, expanding in volume as it does, making the hair on the back of my neck prickle. I suddenly understand why dogs are sometimes terrified of thunder. It's a primal shot of perspective, powerful far beyond our ability to control, announcing a storm's ability to lay waste. I go unplug everything computer/stereo. The thunder picks up strength as I do, lightning begins flashing. When the rain commences, it comes driven by sudden high winds, descending in undulating waves. Pretty wild. All open windows get closed, a few of them too late to keep floors dry. Not that I'm complaining about some wet floors. At least I had shelter. Where does the local wildlife go when a weather event like this changes the course of the day? Today's been lovely -- sunny, a bit hazy. Warm and humid, though not hot, with a nice breeze blowing. The air feeling soft, a bit sensuous even. I caught a little of the midday weather forecast, they're talking about more thunderstorms later in the day, with more of the same tomorrow. When the time comes, I'll batten down the hatches and ride it out. Until then, I'll enjoy a classic August day. rws 2:21 PM [+]
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