Storms and rain forever
I’m writing this blog on a dreary, rainy day. We’re experiencing a tropical storm and it’s just fantastic. I love this kind of weather.
It’s one reason I love Florida—we get weather. Meaning, storms. Wind. Rain. Lightning. Motion in the trees. Motion in the clouds. I adore it.
I came here from a state that had virtually no weather. It was just gorgeous all the time, except in the summer, when it had a dull gray marine cloud layer every morning until it burned off around noon. We never got storms or rain or interesting cloud formations.
The weather here in Florida reminds me of places where I grew up. Those places were in the tropics where there was even more humidity than here. The cloud displays were fantastic, like here. The storms were violent, like here. The rain fell in deluges, like here. The skies got angry-black, like here. It was just so awesome, and I know it’s why I adore Florida weather.
I wouldn’t like rain all the time, though. I wouldn’t be happy in Seattle, I don’t think. I lived in a country once where it actually felt like winter during the winter, and when the skies were pretty much gray 24/7. That got to be pretty depressing. (Especially since I had moved from the state where it was boringly gorgeous 24/7. I was used to seeing the sun and blue skies.)
People in that country were often afflicted with SAD—Seasonal Affective Disorder. I can totally see why. After two winters there, I could see me struggling with that too.
When we get storms here in Florida, they always now remind me of the hurricanes that went through twelve years ago. In the part of the state where I live, three hurricanes went through in a space of six weeks. I think. Or maybe it was three storms six weeks apart. The details are a bit hazy now.
But anyway it was an unprecedented hurricane season in terms of activity. That was the year when Katrina hit Louisiana and caused such devastation. Talk about a banner year for storms.
I had purchased a property five years earlier with three huge oak trees in the back of the acre behind the house. During the three hurricanes, one tree went down in each storm.
The first storm was the most jaw-dropping one. We went outside in the morning (because of course it went through at night when the terror level racheted up since we couldn’t see much but we could hear the wind like the roar of a freight train) and trees were down everywhere.
I looked out the back and could not believe that one of our huge oak trees was on its side. I hadn’t even heard it fall because the wind had been so loud. I mean, how do you not hear a giant tree crash to the ground?
The next storm was the same scenario, with the second oak falling. After that storm, I could see that the third tree was leaning, so after the third storm, I wasn’t surprised to see that the last oak had come down.
Crazy storms, those were. I lost other trees, too, not just the big ones.