Perilous - August

A person never quite appreciates the weather so much as when they move to the country and undertake a profession that has them outside every day - through all sorts of weather conditions.  A city or town dweller who has a job that typically places them inside will hunker down in a safe place when the tornado sirens go off.  Or maybe they are the sort that steps outside or stands by a window to view the event until it becomes obvious, even to them, that it is time to seek shelter.  But, once the event is over - and as long as there is not apparent injury to them or theirs - it is typically thrown into a pile of barely memorable experiences.

Why am I allowed to say this?  Well, I've been blessed with the opportunity to live both lives at times.  I know that my appreciation for the peril that is a strong weather system on our world was not always the same as it is now.  And, now that I have a job that sits me at the computer more often, my attitude has changed yet again.

There is a smaller set of people on this world that have remembrances of multiple times working in a field - cultivating, planting, harvesting - and looking up to see storm clouds on the horizon.  Even fewer still are the people who experience this often enough to be able to make fairly precise estimates as to how long it will be before that line of storms will arrive.  I still recall more than one instance where Tammy and I pulled everyone out of the field and got all of us under shelter just prior to the arrival of whatever was heading our way.

We only got caught in the middle of it when we ignored the warnings in our own heads and tried to do "just a little bit more" before we went in.  Or, worse yet, we realized there was something that was going to do very poorly unless we dashed out to tie it down or close it up.  If we didn't want that high tunnel to fly into the next county, we HAD to get out there and shut it down.  That's one way to get thoroughly scoured by a driving rain.

Each strong weather system brings with it perils for a small-scale, diversified farm such as ours.  A little bit of hail can shred the lettuce and pierce the fruits we are toiling to grow.  A poof of wind can lift paper mulch and cause it to beat the newly planted vine crops to a pulp.  Any harvest containers left out to dry are potential missiles and freshly washed farm towels can catch enough wind to tear the entire laundry line down.  And, heaven help you if you left a doors open on both the windward AND the leeward side of an outbuilding!

Nothing compares with the sizzle and boom you get with a lightning strike that makes the hairs on your arm stand on end.  Nothing exfoliates your skin better than a seventy mile an hour wind that is carrying a few counties worth of dirt and debris while you struggle to get inside after closing that high tunnel "just in time."

And nothing makes you appreciate the peril - and the beauty - of a storm than living in a way that makes it matter to you.