While many people panic in the face of lightning, thunder, and strong winds, I usually found comfort in these demonstrations of nature's power. I have been fortunate in not being injured myself and not having had family members injured in these kinds of events, and I do not doubt that my attitude would change should that not have been the case. I also prefer to have power than not and these storms sometimes interfere with that desire. Still, these magnificent displays bring out a primal reaction on my part, making me want to add my voice to the powerful roar of the wind and rumble of thunder. Once, when in high school, a live power line went down in our road. To warn motorists of the hazard, my father and I took flashlights to slow and guide people around the danger while the storm boomed around us. I had no fear, though perhaps I should have, but felt invigorated to the point that I didn't mind my mother's chastisements about our foolishness later.
While the power of thunderstorms invigorates me, steady rains bring me a sense of peace and calm. During my youngest years, we traveled the country by car. Throughout my life with my parents, we took regular trips to Chicago and Minnesota. Much of those car rides were cramped, hot, and dull. However, when we drove through the rain, the soft pelting on the car's windows and roof made me feel safe and secure (even though my father probably felt the opposite as he drove). Like is also the case with snowstorms, I find that being in a warm and dry space while nature soaks the Earth always brings me peace. Nothing helps me sleep better at night than the sounds of a steady rain falling outside. I especially would like to live in a home with extended eaves so that I could leave the windows open to the pattering of rain without fear of drenching the inside of the house.
I like walking in the rain. While I instinctively hunch as precipitation hits my body (especially my face), I have worked at consciously straightening myself and walking as though the rain doesn't affect me. In warmer rains, I revel in the feeling of cleansing wash of nature's showers. Recently, my daughter Katrina showed a similar enjoyment as she spent over an hour weeding her garden in a steadily pouring storm. She came in soaked, but strangely satisfied, and I understood the feeling well.
TV and Internet meteorologists often bemoan incoming rain, and I understand the damper that those storms often place on people's plans, but as long as they are not bringing flooding and destruction, I prefer to celebrate the life-giving waters that these storms provide.