A thunderstorm moved in this evening, after threatening to do so all day.  It was a bit frightening, and made me realize how awful it would be to have to weather a truly severe storm, such as a tropical storm or hurricane, in a travel trailer.

The thunder roared over head, long rumbles that seemed to go on forever.  The lightning flashed, over and over, like someone was running a strobe light outside.  The wind howled.

When the storm first arrived, I remembered a forgotten bottle of herbs on the table outside.  I ran out to get it, and the door was snatched from my hand as I exited, slamming against the side of the trailer with a frightening level of violence.  Everything on the table went flying (except my bottle of herbs!) at the same time.

I was drenched in icy rain for my 3 yard dash.  I had to struggle to get the door closed again too.  The wind was almost instantly screaming in fury outside, and the trailer shuddered from the impact it had on its walls, almost as though it was in fear.

I asked Red Dog if she wanted to go out.  She looked at me like I was nuts and then made a run for GM in the bedroom, where he scratched her ears to sooth her anxiety.  She came back, laying down with her nose touching my heel, as though it was some kind of comfort to have that much physical contact.  Sissy, as is her pattern, was cowering in her bed, shaking.  She wasn’t moving, for fear someone would drag her out into the storm.

Even now, a good hour since the storm passed by, Red Dog is laying curled up at my feet, the back of her head lightly touching my heel.  She isn’t afraid of storms, per se, I’ve often seen her sitting at the gate waiting for me to come home, in wild thunderstorms with pouring rain, back in our “old life” before now.  But these days, during storms, she wants to be near me, whether I stay indoors or venture out for some reason.

I don’t know why, but the storm passing has left me feeling exhausted, after the exhilarating feelings the raging storm outside brought.  Even the uneasiness as the trailer groaned and quivered under the storm’s assault was unable to conquer that exhilaration.  I was so thankful we were in the travel trailer instead of a flimsy (and potentially leaky) tent though!

It did make me think about my new fascination with the concept of bicycle camping.  In that situation, our only shelter would be our tent.  In a way, it’s reaffirmed my decision to get a new tent with as much storm-resistance as possible.  There is nothing worse than a tent collapse when you have no place to go, not even a vehicle, to take shelter in.

So now, in the wake of the storm, the melancholy feelings wash over me, like waves on the beach.  I feel a lot like those sandy trails that the waves leave behind too.  Not seriously altered, but still…marked by the storm’s passage.  Funny how a little bit of wind does that, isn’t it?


About giascott

Writer, blogger, cook, grandmother, mother, wife, radio personality, outdoor enthusiast, dog enthusiast, crafter, artist, and part-time nut~~I've earned a lot of t-shirts in my day! I'm one of those crazy independent women who can cut down a tree, build you a shed, sew you a dress, cook your dinner, make some soap, pitch a tent, build a fire, catch some fish, dig in the garden, chase a kid or two, write you a poem, paint you a picture, and a dozen other things...just don't ask me to sing! I'm also embarking on a relatively new portion of my life, one of being disabled. I'm learning some lessons along the way about a lot of things too.
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