Thunderstorm

Everyone gets a different feeling when they see and hear thunder and lightning. Some people, like my wife, have a warm fuzzy feeling that reminds her of childhood looking out of her bedroom window on a stormy night.

Some people are scared of the noise and the flashes of light like my eldest son.

Thunder and lightning can bring out all sorts of different kinds of emotions. The practical side of me gets disappointed that I can’t get the stuff done outdoors that I need to get done. The relaxed side of me just wants to find a box set and chill out until the storm passes.

I’ve even heard of people stripping off naked and dancing in it. I’ll stick to Netflix.

Today is a thunderstorm, bringing with it sheet lightning and hail stones. The rumbles of thunder are almost constant. It is majestic. I feel a bit like my wife as I gaze out of the window watching its wonder. But I can’t deny that there’s a little bit of my brain that agrees with my son. What if our house falls down?! The thunderstorm is beautiful, but so is my 100 year old Portuguese house that might not appreciate being shaken.

That’s how it feels as the thunder rumbles on. I can feel the vibration below me. But although the house is old, it comforts me to know that it has survived a 100 years of thunderstorms. It’s a solid structure and will survive another 100 years I’m sure.

‘Yesterday we were in the pool trying to cool down!’ I told our builder. ‘Welcome to Portugal!’ he laughed.

There’s rain, thunderstorms and sunshine in the UK, but here in Portugal the weather is on steroids.

A quote from The Minds Journal says…

Why do you like thunderstorms? Because it shows that even nature needs to scream sometimes.

The science behind a thunderstorm is a little more complex, but I quite like to think that nature is just having a moment, like we all do sometimes.

I once wanted to go on Dragons Den with an invention that allowed busy people (I imagined the city centre of Leeds at the time) to enter a pod so that they could scream, shout and swear without being heard or causing a scene. They could then calmly walk out and continue with their day a bit less stressed. ‘The Screaming Pod’, I announced to Lou one day. ‘I would call it The Screaming Pod!’

I think somewhere in Japan beat me to that invention though. And anyway, Wetherspoons  has had a similar concept for decades already.

As I look again out of the window my thoughts turn to the newly sowed grass seed. ‘They need a bit of rain’, I think to myself. And then I realise what just ran through my head and remember that I’m getting old. Between the lawn being a priority these days, groaning every time I stand up and Lou having to point out the food that’s missed my mouth and instead dribbles down my chin, I know that I am getting old.

I jest, of course. 45 isn’t old. But I do think that I have reached an age where I can ‘feel old’ once in a while. I’m entitled to dribble now and again, right?

Ah, there I go again, wittering on about my time in Wetherspoons.

Lou has just reminded me that we still don’t have any doors and windows to the AL rental house, so my next job is to find some plaster board to protect the flooring from the rain. So I’d best sign off for now and get piss wet through in the rain while nature has a scream.

Until next time, my friends.