see as i saw

Something about a good summer storm puts me in a blissful state of awe, ignites my senses.  When the thunder rolls, I can feel it rumbling through my own body.  The patter of rain creates a percussive lull and the smell is intoxicatingly fresh and natural.  Lightning glowers in the clouds or streaks through the sky, its own personal gallery, creating an abstract display of meteorological art.

I find myself amazed at the evolution of a clear blue sky into a dark and ominous storm cell.  The colors in the sky and the shapes in the clouds are usually most entrancing in that short calm before the storm.  In those moments, I find myself concurrently appreciating the scene and anticipating the next phase.  Somehow I manage to find an inherent peace in Mother Nature's turmoil.

This fascination isn't new, I have many childhood and adolescent memories tied to stormy summer days.  My dad and I used to open the garage door as a storm rolled in and set up lawn chairs at its edge.  We would bring our books, sometimes a newspaper, and sit in companionable silence while we watched and felt the storm around us.

On rainy days, when the thunder and lightning were absent, my brothers and I would ravage the garage for buckets, wheelbarrows, wagons, anything that could hold water.  Smaller containers would be placed under downspouts around the perimeter of the house.  As a container filled, we would replace it with an empty and relay the rainwater contents to a wheelbarrow.  There was no real purpose to this activity besides frolicking in the rain.  Although, sometimes we would agree to give the dog a bath in our collection.

And in high school I had a few friends with a habit of driving into parking lots where huge puddles formed, then rushing out of the car to stomp and splash like five-year-olds.  If it was nighttime, we'd simply aim the car's headlights in the general vicinity of the best puddles.  We'd end up soaked through, laughing until our stomachs ached, and completely jubilant.  Clearly I wasn't a particularly rebellious teenager.

So, I no longer have a garage or a yard with downspouts, my dad and brothers live in different states than me, and it's been awhile since I found anyone with a penchant for puddle jumping.  Regardless, I still find myself aflutter with anticipation whenever a summer storm starts to roll in.

Am I the only person who is nostalgically pining for the days of back to school shopping?  I'm not necessarily the most enthusiastic clothes shopper, but throw in school supplies and I'm sold.  There was focused effort put into choosing my notebooks, folders, assignment planners, pens, and oh so many other necessary instruments for success.  Sometimes the excitement of school supplies even rubbed off on clothes shopping.

Although I loved summer, there was always excitement in returning to the daily agenda of academia.  At least for me.  I've just never been able to hate learning.  There was the anticipation of awaiting class assignments, comparing schedules with friends.  Such innocent and simple joys.  How could we replicate that in the "real world" for adults?

It's official, a weekend that I generally avoid even being within city limits is likely to become a reality of overpopulated proportions.  The Chicago Air & Water Show, which my parents would like to attend.  They find a thrill in watching the Blue Angels and the Chicago show has the perk of being free.  Although I know about the crowds by local rumor, that's the end of my knowledge base.

So I've started digging around.  Dates: August 18-19.  Time: No clue.  Central viewing point: North Avenue Beach.  Where I won't be viewing from: North Avenue Beach.  From what I can tell, there's still pretty decent views of the show from as far north as Diversey Harbor.  I don't want to give away my secret plan or anything, but I'm thinking that maybe (a big maybe) we'll have a chance to retain some breathing room if we park ourselves under the trees at Fullerton.

Shade and a lack of overcrowding sounds too good to be true.  I still have a month to try to discover a better option.

The day started pleasantly and promising enough.  By 10:00am I had already worked in a three mile walk by the lake, a shower and breakfast.  I made a command decision that today would be a Starbucks coffee day, thanks to a few bucks remaining on my gift card.  After navigating the crowd in my tiny neighborhood coffee joint, my iced coffee and I traveled to a park bench.

It was more than an hour before the sun started to fade out and the dark sky rolled in.  I was making such great progress on The Grapes of Wrath, only five pages left.  Determination to make that book a part of my past instead of my present (it's been a struggle to read a book I'm not enjoying) allowed me to convince myself that I could easily make it home before the rain.  I was partially correct.

Finally finished, I started toward home, a mere three blocks away.  The sky was ominous and intriguing, so I saw no harm in stopping for a photo.  Then the dust started gusting into my eyes, leaves were pouring out of trees onto my head, and I could hardly walk forward or in a straight line.  Garbage bins were crashing and burning onto the path one or two steps behind me.

It became unclear whether I should duck into a doorway or try to make it home.  Part of my mind was flashing through scenes from Twister, anticipating an F5 in the next thirty seconds.  Ultimately, I decided that I'd rather be in my own building should it come to that; there was comfort in the idea of a secure underground level.  As I started crossing the street, my mass of hair whipping in front of my face, there was a sound of metal screeching on concrete.  Sure enough, a large metal sculpture on the sidewalk corner had just tipped into the street as easily as a chess pawn.  If that wind was taking down ten feet of metal, I had no business being outside.  Time to pick up the pace.

I jogged the next block and a half, noting tree branches on cars, people cowering in alleys and doorways, other people jogging toward wherever, metal torn away from telephone posts, dislodged signs.  These winds had been in effect for no more than three minutes and I was clueless about what else was coming.

Once I stepped inside my building, and checked that my car was debris-free, my heart rate slowed, but I noticed that there was a little tremor in my hand.  Checking out the weather radar quelled any worries, seeing that I was on the northernmost edge of a front heading southeast.  Of course, that made me wonder what the center of the storm looked like.  A few highlights, according to the National Weather Service: "damaging wind in excess of 60 mph, large hail, deadly lightning".