so when i got off the El at belmont, the sky was overcast. but as i turned north onto halsted, it became a shade closer to ominous. the grayish-bluish-greenish tinge seemed fairly far off in the distance, though, so i ambled along on my merry way, ipod humming.
within a few blocks, though, the storm seemed quite close - you know that way in which the air can turn almost imperceptibly from normal to stormy? it's kind of amazing when that moment flips over right in front of you, all around you. it's suddenly a darkened version of day, and entire trees are swaying in synchronicity. everything is in movement, and yet it feels very, very still.
as i walked the final half block to my apartment building, i was thinking how it was a rare and enjoyable experience to be walking into a storm. it seemed like at any moment the sky could open up - a flash of lightening or rumble of thunder was imminent. there's a delicious anticipation to it, and my eyes scanned the swirling treetops and thick, cloudy sky for signs of the coming deluge.
then my phone rang. it was BoyCat.
i picked up just as i was coming into the courtyard, and he asked "where are you?" i said, "the courtyard. why?" he said "good. well, you should get inside." the wind made an insistent whooshing sound in between my ear and the edge of the phone. "ok. why, are you seeing the sky out the window? dark, huh?" then he said something that will send a chill down any new englander's spine:
"there's a tornado warning."
i'll tell you what, my romantic musings about the advent of a storm evaporated as i hauled ass inside. i only had about 1500 feet between me and the apartment door, but i could not have gotten there fast enough!
thunderstorms = lovely and ripe for pondering. tornados = terrifying and ripe for provoking me to drink.