Tuesday night brought storms in the distance. Low, billowy clouds blossomed back-lit pink as crooked fingers of lightning arced from cloud to cloud. All this at great enough remove that I didn't hear thunder, but the mere sight of such roseate firmament seemed a resounding endorsement of my having moved to this remote locale.
I love violent weather. Good thing, that. Now I'm free to enjoy rainstorms again without worrying about leaks in the buildings I manage. I don't miss the way my enjoyment of stormy weather was always dampened by the dread of whatever roof or wall might obligingly give water entry into someone's apartment. Yes, I'm free to enjoy bad weather again. I just hope I don't get blowed away.