Summer Storms Light Up My Life
Christina Lantz explains her love of thunderstorms.
I’ll be honest, the last several days have been awesome. Why, oh why, might you ask?
I know there are some of you who think I’m crazy for loving them, but I think it’s one of those things you either love or hate.
My love for them goes back to childhood. In the days before relaxation CDs or sleep
machines, whenever my mom heard thunder or saw a few flashes of lightning off in the distance, she’d get excited, grab a tape recorder and set it in the window to record the storm.
My sister and I always found ourselves sitting with mom on her bed with the windows open and the lights out "oohing" and "ahhing," while our mom "shhh’d" us for making sounds the recorder could pick up.
On the other (and much more extreme) hand, my maternal great-grandmother hated them. Thunderstorms scared her so much, that if one happened during the night, she would wake up my grandmother and my great uncle, make them get dressed and sit at the kitchen table with their coats in hand until the storm passed. Granted, this was over 80 years ago, and we didn’t know nearly as much about thunderstorms as we do now.
Even though I love thunderstorms, that doesn’t mean I don’t get panicky when they’re right overhead. I get skittish about lightening striking our house or anyone else’s for that matter.
When there’s a huge flash, I have been known to jump, but I still get excited when lightning sizzles though the sky. I wait for the snap of something being struck and then breathe a sigh of relief when the thunder comes.
I look at thunderstorms like nature's pressure valve. After an especially hot or humid day, a good thunderstorm comes by, releases a few negative ions, and refreshes the air.
I love being able to go outside after a thunderstorm and look at how quiet and still everything has become. It’s almost as though nature has pushed the reset button.
Thunderstorms are thrilling and dangerous yet the air afterward is always clean and sweet. I find thunderstorms peaceful. To me, it’s a reminder how little control we puny humans really have over nature.
It also usually means there’s going to be a break in the heat, which I always welcome.