It was around ten o'clock on a peaceful night here in east Oklahoma. I had to go outside and was surprised to see a vast electrical storm lighting up the sky, some of it behind the low hills to the west and all the way northward to the pastureland and the prairie. My first thought was a deflated one. Oh, boy. Here we go again, of course thinking that Roo was in for another scare. And, to tell the truth, that was something of an exhausting thought.
But, for all that lightning, there was no thunder. There would be later, as the storm rolled over, but for a while there wasn't, and because this was the first time since adopting Roo that I got to watch a storm without it being only about how terrified she would be, it was the first time I realized how much I missed being able to watch a thunderstorm. There was a time when I would fly 200 miles in a light plane to get close to the big ones over the deserts or skate a little nearer to the than I should have over the Rockies. I love them. It's especially odd when one recalls the way Orville appeared in a thunderstorm (the name of this blog is from that) while I watched the greatest Himalayan monsoon storm to roll over Kathmandu in a century, and Roo can only think they're going to kill her.
Here's the storm while it was on its way to where we are, just west of the Arkansas border, halfway between Mena and Fort Smith. It was a beautiful storm, and when it finally hit, it only lasted a short while. It did, of course, terrify Roo, but right around the stroke of midnight she calmed. It was an isolated cell, and there won't be any more tonight.
And this is the deep breathing technique Roo uses to deal with thunderstorms when they hit at three in the morning.