Restless waiting

The weather, the last couple of weeks, has been strange.

It’s been calm and cool, with hazy mornings and almost-cold evenings.

If we were still in the Midwest, it would be the sort of weather where it’s 90° with horrendously high humidity, and the hazy on the horizon would be an approaching thunderstorm. I’d be subconciously checking for where my family, friends, pets were, and aware that I might need to check weather reports for tornado watches and warnings.

Other than the humidity, I love those storms. They come rolling across the plains, so powerful and so full of lightening.

Growing up in Arizona, I used to lay awake and watch the monsoons come rolling in off the mountains, full of thunder and lightening that would eventually lull me to sleep. I’ve always loved the power of those storms.

However, in the midwest, I became very aware of how that power could mean destruction as well.

(And sadly, why is it that tornados always seem to hit trailer parks? You think it’s a myth, until you see it happen over and over and over and over again.)

Here, when I got outside, I’m not immediately suffocated by the humidity. It’s cool instead of hot. The haze never moves closer, never materializes into anything.

It’s as if the weather is waiting for something. What, I’m not sure, but that’s the impression I get.

Then, today, there’s wind. The trees are not quite whipping around, but definitely more than a gentle breeze is moving them. It’s still cool, and there was still a bank of clouds out on the coastal range this morning. But now its as if the waiting has become restless.

I don’t really believe in weather omens, but sometimes I wonder.