Today was a stormy day. so storms are the subject of the memory.
In NYC the most dreaded storm is the snow storm. Most new yorkers hate snow because it tends to jam things up for a while. As a young lad i hated snow because it always meant that I had to shovel it. In my teenage years the family was living in the suburbs of Flushing Queens. Dad had built a huge garage in the back of the property. leading up to the garage was a long asphalt driveway. it was about 150 feet long. not long by rural standards but there was the paternal insistence that it be absolutely free of snow both during and after the storm. We often shoveled while it was still storming down snow which is always a futile effort.
Viet Nam led me to despise the torrential rains of the monsoons. They turned everything and everybody into mud. While living in El Paso the sandstorms blasted the finish over my first new car. (My Audi 100 S). My appreciation of tornadoes came about in Enterprise, AL. Driving home from the post there was a tornado damaged roadway. On the left everything was turned about. On the right everything remained pristine.
Storms, I believe are Gods nature's reminders that we are not in control. so when there is a storm I lay back, take a nap, let Gods nature do its thing. Upon arising I go about to survey what has happened and offer thanksgiving if nothing dreadful happened and a hand if something did. Which reminds me of an old song lyric.
"when you walk through a storm keep your head up high and don't be afraid of the dark.
for at the end of the storm there is a golden sky and the sweet simple song of a lark. Walk on, walk on with hope in your heart ...and you will never walk alone!"
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