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Monday, January 28, 2008
Weather or not
6:57 PM | 
Posted by
Christine
It is 45 degrees outside right now. The temperature is supposed to stay steady through the night, and then plummet like a rock throughout the day tomorrow - down to a low of -1 by the end of the night. As dreadful as that sounds, it brings an interesting prospect with it. We may have thunderstorms tomorrow afternoon.
I make no secret of my love of the rain. Even in the winter, there is something soothing about being tucked in my house, listening to the rattle of raindrops on the windows.
Even more spectacular, however, is the prospect of the snow thunderstorm. Watching lightning flash through a sea of white flakes is an amazing experience; one we don't witness nearly often enough.
The first time I ever saw such a wild storm, I was in college. So many moments from those days seem to have vanished from my memory, but this one, I think, will always remain with me. I was at the house where Mark lived with his roommates Brian and Bill (far too many memories survive from that house, I think). It was mid-winter, and late at night as we sat in the dark living room watching television. The snow had started falling hours earlier, and had coated the front sidewalk. When the thunder began rolling outside, I turned to look out the window. "Is that.....thunder?" I asked.
Mark and I peeled ourselves off the couch and went to stand on the front patio, where the flakes were falling in a frenzy. Suddenly, everything around us went blindingly white, and I began to laugh in awe. How could such a thing BE? I skipped over to stand beside the huge tree that stood in the middle of the front yard (in retrospect, not such a wise idea), and giggled until Mark grabbed me and pulled me back inside to avoid what he believed to be my impending death. He was always good about things like that, really. Whether it was assuring a cop that I was most certainly going directly home and should be spared a ticket for public intoxication, kicking Brian out of his bed so I would have a (relatively) safe place to sleep without having to drive home, or rescuing me from egotistical, testosterone-poisoned trumpet players, he always did his best to keep me out of trouble.
Sometimes, though, I wish I'd stood outside for just a little while longer. It's been fifteen years since I've seen a beautiful thundersnow...maybe tomorrow will break the streak :)
I make no secret of my love of the rain. Even in the winter, there is something soothing about being tucked in my house, listening to the rattle of raindrops on the windows.
Even more spectacular, however, is the prospect of the snow thunderstorm. Watching lightning flash through a sea of white flakes is an amazing experience; one we don't witness nearly often enough.
The first time I ever saw such a wild storm, I was in college. So many moments from those days seem to have vanished from my memory, but this one, I think, will always remain with me. I was at the house where Mark lived with his roommates Brian and Bill (far too many memories survive from that house, I think). It was mid-winter, and late at night as we sat in the dark living room watching television. The snow had started falling hours earlier, and had coated the front sidewalk. When the thunder began rolling outside, I turned to look out the window. "Is that.....thunder?" I asked.
Mark and I peeled ourselves off the couch and went to stand on the front patio, where the flakes were falling in a frenzy. Suddenly, everything around us went blindingly white, and I began to laugh in awe. How could such a thing BE? I skipped over to stand beside the huge tree that stood in the middle of the front yard (in retrospect, not such a wise idea), and giggled until Mark grabbed me and pulled me back inside to avoid what he believed to be my impending death. He was always good about things like that, really. Whether it was assuring a cop that I was most certainly going directly home and should be spared a ticket for public intoxication, kicking Brian out of his bed so I would have a (relatively) safe place to sleep without having to drive home, or rescuing me from egotistical, testosterone-poisoned trumpet players, he always did his best to keep me out of trouble.
Sometimes, though, I wish I'd stood outside for just a little while longer. It's been fifteen years since I've seen a beautiful thundersnow...maybe tomorrow will break the streak :)
4 comments:
I remember watching more than one thunderstorm with you from the lovely vantage point of the 14th Floor of Lincoln Hall.
Random thought only somewhat related to thinking about our college days:
"I know a policeman, lives in Detroit, plays a guitar in hotel, his name is Leroy, and he drives a great big car."
Or at least that's how I remember it.
Hey, that really makes me smile! Those were such complicated simple times, weren't they?
I loved your room in Lincoln Hall. Watching Seinfeld on Thursday nights before heading out to the Cafe, sneaking through the cave back to Washington after hours, and randomly making Joel do his Axl Rose impression for a good laugh...
I was a lot luckier than I thought at the time, wasn't I? :)
We were all luckier then than we thought.
Just like we are all luckier now than we think.
Yeah. Pretty cool, isn't it?