There was a lovely rock and roll type thunderstorm last night. It raged and flashed for about half an hour and then died out with a flicker and rumble that put me right to sleep. The dogs were a little edgy during the loudest part but even they decided it wasn’t worth losing sleep over.
I’ve always been a fan of thunderstorms. I love the sound of pounding rain pelting the roof and pinging off windows and walls. The brighter the flash and louder the crash, the more fun it is to listen to. Last night was especially exciting. When the thunder boomed I could actually feel it shake the bed and believe me that doesn’t happen much around here… unprecedented thunderstorms that is.
This morning the neighbor is going crazy with his chainsaw and I’m wondering if the Emerald Ash Borer made a visit to his yard, or else I missed something extra cool last night by not staring out the back window during the storm. But someone once told me that I shouldn’t stand close to glass during a lightening strike. Not that I’m particularly thin and rod shaped, but accidents happen. Although if lightening shot through my window, I don’t think you could call that an accident, but rather an act of God. Although, if he wants to take me out he knows where I am, so…
Anyway, I better walk outside and stare unobtrusively into the neighbor’s backyard so I know if they had a lightening strike last night. Someone has to do the Neighborhood Watch around here: keeping folks safe from lack of info.
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It is so nice to find someone else who enjoys thunderstorms. I was terrified of them as a child as young adult. One day during a very violent one, I cried out to God and he delivered me from the fear.
Loved your Neighborhood Watch ending.
You’re not “thin and rod-shaped”….. love it. Allie
When I was a little girl my father always told us thunder was Hughie, rolling his cream cans in the sky.
Now perhaps that doesn’t make sense, but in the days before bulk milk collection from farms, milk was separated from the cream and the cream sent to the factories for processing. The milk was fed to pigs.
When the cream truck rolled up you could hear the the boom of the cream cans being loaded and unloaded, the sound echoing down the valley.
I loved your photo and the neighbourhood watch at the end.
Do tell me where I can get some Emerald Ash Borer so I could infect the trees in my neighbour’s back yard? And perhaps I can hear the joyful sound of a chainsaw.
Is that a neighbor problem you’re having Shirley, or a neighbor’s tree problem? 🙂 Wonderful story of the milk cans. My husband grew up milking cows and they sold their milk for making cheese. I thought their milk tasted funny but I was a town kid.
thanks for stopping by!
Oh the trees. Some I can cope with but several dozen on a half acre…forest giants at that…give me a break. Some people don’t realise tiny saplings grow into trees.
In our verdant part of the world, very quickly at that.
We had a fabulous thunder and lightening storm the other night (which I slept through)but there were some great photots of lightening hitting the bridges around San Francisco. In England we were always getting thunder storms (lol) but they can be very cosy when you’re snuggled up inside. Nice to meet you and thanks for stopping by my blog 🙂