Storms & Earthquakes

Quite the week for weather. If you can call a 3.2 earthquake weather.

I was asked if I felt it here in Southeast, and I had to say, I didn't. I was home, watching TV. And since I usually do notice the little house doing the magic fingers dance, I was surprised that I didn't notice it this time.

"What were you watching?" came next.
"Uh---okay, I'll tell you. Turner Classic Movies had on 'Faster Pussycat, Kill Kill', and I had never seen it before, it was rather absorbing."
"You're kidding."

It's good to get caught up on the cult film millieu, now I'll get the tossed off references to it, and it made me laugh. I just kept thinking, "My dad in his 20s would have loved this movie at the drive-in, I wonder if he saw it?" Cars, broads, racing, crime spree, ridiculous dialogue, really heavy eyeliner and cleavage from sea to shining sea. I get that from him, appreciation of the ridiculous I mean.

So I missed the earthquake. But the heavy summer thunderstorm last night was an utter delight. The build-up of humidity, the darkening horizon and distant flashes, the hovering silence in the trees, then the faint scent of mossy lakeside as first one then a dozen loud drops come down like ball bearings. There wasn't much wind, and only distant lightning and thunder, but we did have a great show from the second story windows, and a few washes of rain before it was all over. And you might expect it to cool off after the storm blew through, but it didn't until a few hours later, when some wind rose and carried off some of the heat and humidity of the day.
Freshly damp summer pavement. Nothing else smells like that. I slept like a brick.

Being cloudy and cool, I get a break from watering duties today, and the local weather dudes say the 100 degree days are over for now. Between the earthquake, heat waves, storms, fires, and ping-pong sized hail, one is looking skyward and expecting locusts, frogs, flies, and other biblical type special effects. I mean, I don't, but to hear people marvel at it, you'd think these things never happened at all until the last 10 years.
Of course, it all happened, we just didn't have 84 gazillion news sources yammering at us 24-7 to whip us up into a frenzy.

A sudden summer thunderstorm here in Oregon is unusual, and I enjoyed it. In the other hot place I used to live, they are violent, frequent, and cause unexpected flooding, and your power goes out all the time. We not only took them for granted, funnel clouds, water spouts and hurricanes made us all amateur meteorologists. Like here we all talk about gardening. Or coffee. Or microbrews. Or athletic shoes.

While I was out watering yesterday morning, a group of neighbors and their elderly visiting family strolled by, and they commented on the lush strip gardens by the street, and all the spent roses in everyone's garden. "What you folks here need is a good rain!" said one of the older men. "Not til September," I said.
I think I'm going to start rain dancing when I'm out with the hose. If I have on one of my tie-dyed t-shirts, you'll know it's me. Say "Hi!".