I love a rainy night

It's storm season in these parts. And while I certainly do not condone the damage left by hail, wind and tornados, I do love the raw power of mother nature - there's something about it that makes you feel so small and able to believe in the hugeness of the universe.

Unlike my husband and and many in my family, I have yet to see a tornado. I've always wanted to; but then, if it means that we get to keep our roofs, I'll settle for pictures.

The seriousness of a tornado's destruction was coupled by just a bit of comic relief in this story from a few years back:

There was a tornado that all but demolished an entire town about 15 miles south of us. At the time, my brother and dad were in the field, each in their own tractor. After squinting across the horizon to be sure of what he saw, my brother called dad with the following observation: "Uh, dad...look to to the west. Do you see what I'm seeing?" My father's reply is not suitable for publishing here, but what followed was a race against time as dad and Dirk put their tractors into high gear, headed north towards home, and watched the twister swing south. To hear them tell the story and visualize these two cowboys counting on their machines to get them home safe always makes me giggle; what that tornado did to the poor citizens of Deshler certainly does not.

I took these pics a couple weeks ago, standing in my backyard. When I went outside, it was as still as the crowd at Wimbledon waiting for a serve. Within minutes, I could literally see and feel the bank sweeping in, bringing with it the roaring wind and a reminder that I best be getting my tush inside - and really, I was hoping to NOT see a tornado.