The first time my mom took me on a nature walk through the woods I was three. At first, everything was fine. The sun was shining, birds were chirping, and the squirrels were gathering acorns. The further in we went, the darker it got. The trees blocked the light and I felt surrounded. I did not like that feeling at all and started to scream. I was in such a state of panic that my mom and older brother, who was with us at the time, had to turn around and go back. To this day they still tease me about being afraid of nature, but I think I was on to something.
Six years ago a thunder and lightning storm came in the middle of summer, something that isn’t uncommon. I was watching TV, hoping that the connection wouldn’t get broken in the middle of my show. Suddenly, white light illuminated the window pane by our front door like a camera flash. A second later a loud “crack” shot through the air. Our lights didn’t go out and the connection on the TV was perfectly fine, so I figured that it was just a close, normal lightning strike. It wasn’t. Fifteen minutes later I started to smell smoke. My dad came into the room as I got up from the couch. We looked at each other, both of us knew something wasn’t right. We walked around the house but everything was fine. Then we opened our front door. Heat, like opening the door to an oven, hit us in the face. Our neighbor’s house across the street had been struck by lightning and was burning to the ground. The heat radiating off of their house was so strong smoke was wafting off their neighbors’ roofs. Thankfully no one was hurt, but since then I don’t look at storms the same way.
Three years ago my mom and I were flying home when a freak storm hit. We were stranded at the airport overnight because a tornado hit ten miles from our home airport. This happened in November, not the usual tornado season. The next day we were able to fly home. As we descended to land, the sight stopped all conversation. The path of the tornado was visible from miles in the air. Houses were gone, trees were ripped up from the roots, and it was like a finger raked across the ground leaving a path of destruction.
So while there was nothing to be afraid of that day in the woods, I think I was on to something. Most people think of nature as green grass and butterflies, but I know better. Nature has two faces, life and devastation, and we need to respect both.
Six years ago a thunder and lightning storm came in the middle of summer, something that isn’t uncommon. I was watching TV, hoping that the connection wouldn’t get broken in the middle of my show. Suddenly, white light illuminated the window pane by our front door like a camera flash. A second later a loud “crack” shot through the air. Our lights didn’t go out and the connection on the TV was perfectly fine, so I figured that it was just a close, normal lightning strike. It wasn’t. Fifteen minutes later I started to smell smoke. My dad came into the room as I got up from the couch. We looked at each other, both of us knew something wasn’t right. We walked around the house but everything was fine. Then we opened our front door. Heat, like opening the door to an oven, hit us in the face. Our neighbor’s house across the street had been struck by lightning and was burning to the ground. The heat radiating off of their house was so strong smoke was wafting off their neighbors’ roofs. Thankfully no one was hurt, but since then I don’t look at storms the same way.
Three years ago my mom and I were flying home when a freak storm hit. We were stranded at the airport overnight because a tornado hit ten miles from our home airport. This happened in November, not the usual tornado season. The next day we were able to fly home. As we descended to land, the sight stopped all conversation. The path of the tornado was visible from miles in the air. Houses were gone, trees were ripped up from the roots, and it was like a finger raked across the ground leaving a path of destruction.
So while there was nothing to be afraid of that day in the woods, I think I was on to something. Most people think of nature as green grass and butterflies, but I know better. Nature has two faces, life and devastation, and we need to respect both.