Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Great tornado and thunderstorm photos here.

I need to carry a camera. I do not think I could take pictures as good as Mr. Reed, but it would be fun to have them.

I love storms. It may come from growing up, to the extent I did, in West Texas. You could see 180 degrees of sky in most places. The sky would fill up with clouds, updrafts of hot air driving them in columns higher and higher. At sundown, they would bunch together in thunderstorms, what they now call supercells. Lightning would streak across the sky in colors, white, yellow, green and even red. Lighting would strike the ground in the fields, the lightning rods on houses and the power line poles.

Sometimes the sky would turn green and you knew hail would fall. The air smelled like ozone, sharp and acrid. The electricity in the air made the hair on your arm stand up. Then pow, a lightning strike would light up the night and reveal the massive storm clouds.

Then the pressure would drop, the wind would blow until it roared and you knew it was coming. A tornado would drop, all dark and swirling and dangerous. It was powerful and unstoppable. It went where it would and destroyed all in its path. It was raw and powerful and natural and there was nothing you could do but watch and pray and duck and cover.

I love it.
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