I fixed lunch quickly and headed back to my desk. It was too busy a Monday – dear Lord could it still only be Monday – to linger about.Continue reading “A little help”
I haven’t seen a sunrise in a long time.
Sunrises (and that one fireball) were the one upside in the miserable commute that I don’t otherwise miss at all.Continue reading “December morn”
As soon as the work day was over, I masked up, threw on shoes, remembered keys (woot, another disaster averted), grabbed the recycling to go out, and began the trek to mom and dad’s.Continue reading “Wet”
We don’t see a lot of tornadoes in this neck of the woods. Which is good. Continue reading “Tornado warning”
… here are mostly a soup of humidity and mosquitoes, punctuated by thunderstorms.
But every so often, they’re really lovely.
New solar lanterns along the stairs and walkway.
Well, I’m kind of giving away the current time lag I’m on (give or take a day) by telling you that Tropical Storm Isaias is bearing down on us.
It’s sunny, hot and humid all day. I can see the sunny from my office window. I can feel the hot, even with the A/C on, and the forecast says we’ll see 90ish. The humid is confirmed when I get the mail in the afternoon, when I take out the recycling in the evening.
An hour later, the sky goes hazy, then dusky. And then Flash-Crack goes the lightning and thunder, almost simultaneously.
And then the sky opens wide.
The swale fills. The pond fills. The gutters next door fill.
I step out onto the porch to take it all in. I message the folks to see how they’re doing. They’ve lost power. Sigh.
They say the house is still cool for now from the A/C being on until a few moment ago.
Things that are straightforward normally are complicated by pandemic. Even so, if the power stays off and the heat climbs, it’s not a question. Obviously.
Pack a bag while there’s still light, I tell them. And make sure to report the outage to the power company.
They do and then assure me the power company says the lights will be back on in a couple of hours.
Pack just in case, and you won’t need to. Don’t pack, and they’ll have delays and you’ll be packing by flashlight later.
S has rubbed off on me: Contingency planning. Have a plan, a plan B, a plan C.
They don’t respond to that. I’m sure they think I’m crazy.
Anyway, their power does come back on, and ahead of schedule.
The rain slows to a slightly less alarming rate.
It’s full dark when it starts again. Low rumbles, flashes, the rush of water. I can’t see it. But I hear it.
Sometimes the summer rain is comforting. Tonight it is not.
My folks went out of town for a couple of days the other weekend.
(They promised me they would mostly do outdoor things and stay socially distanced from others and wear their masks in public and just generally stay as safe as possible. Not for nothing, but if they get sick I’m going to be so pissed off. Continue reading “Beating the heat”
is falling on my roof, a steady shower rushing evenly in the darkness of the night. It abates for a while, the low rumble of thunder follows shortly after, distant. A sigh of relief, rather than a growling threat. The heat releasing its grip for a while.
I wish for you – the feeling of safety and protection through the night, that I feel as this brief storm passes over.
I wish I could capture the sound to share with you.
I was too sleepless the prior night to drag myself up early to work out.
Actually I’d been too sleepless to get up before it was time to start the coffee and the workday. Continue reading “Evening stroll”