I love storms. I love observing radar on weather sites on the Internet, which lets me track storms coming our way. I think I could have easily been a meteorologist (or archaeologist or psychologist) if I didn’t already have the life that I love. The only thing that I would like better than the life that I have would be a Hobbit house with a Secret Garden. The house would have a beautiful library inside, with floor-to-ceiling built-in bookcases with dark, rich wood and comfy couches and chairs, with a reading nook under a window. And one of the bookcases would hide a secret room with a wardrobe in it that led to magical worlds….but short of that, I like the life I have.
We are expecting storms all week. Last night we got some dramatic storms, and when they began, my son begged, “Let’s go storm chasing!” EJ, our son, and I all love storms and pause to watch them when we can. So JJ and I drove around a bit, and admired the clouds and occasional flashes of lightning. JJ drove and told me that my job was to take pictures of the weather, but I had fun taking pictures of him, and hearing him exclaim, “NOT ME! You are SUPPOSED to take pictures of the storm!” The really dramatic storms didn’t begin until a few hours later, but we had fun.
I saw on radar this morning that more storms are coming our way across Lake Michigan, so I took my dog, Danny, out for his walk this morning before they arrive. Danny and I love our daily walks together. I love walking in the morning best, but often don’t find the time to walk until afternoon. This morning was perfect. It was just the right coolness, and the day was so new and fresh and beautiful.
The only thing that marred our wonderful morning walk is the mosquitoes. The rain has brought them out and they are awful! Whenever poor Danny stopped for any reason, clouds of mosquitoes landed on him, making him look like Charlie Brown’s friend, Pigpen:
They surrounded me too, and I was constantly shaking my head or slapping myself as they buzzed around and landed on me. I have itchy mosquito welts all over me–on my face, neck, arms. It was a macabre dance to a buzzing beat: Buzz, shake, slap, hop….
Why is it that when it’s beautiful, and warm, and perfect for a walk or working in the garden, the mosquitoes must come in? It’s impossible to enjoy a walk or a garden when you have to constantly slap mosquitoes. I hate mosquitoes. They have absolutely no benefit that I can see except to suck blood. The only thing worse than mosquitoes are ticks, which bury their heads in your flesh as they drink your blood, and can’t be easily brushed off or killed with a swat.