Some of my more cherished memories of my childhood were me, my friends and neighbors sitting on a porch viewing a prairie thunderstorm brewing and then letting forth. Quite an awesome display and a welcome break in summer heat in the days before common household air conditioning.
ah summer thunderstorms, viewed from weak safety of a porch or garage, welcome relief from humidity…
the intensity of the thunderclaps, the smell of ozone, pelting rain maybe hail, the cool cool air afterwards, you can sense the foliage breath a sigh of relief…
of course the woods are so thick in southern New England there’s always -the suspense, the never really knowing where It might strike, the count from bolt to thunder, the awe when there was no count at all…
And just after the storm had past overhead! Biking through the puddles and the proof of it being the long mud stripe going up the back.
“Hose off before you step in here.”
Mom rule #313.
Fort Wayne Ind. summers in 1972.