After a rare weeks-long cold snap, the Gulf Coast is back to normal. That means lots of rain and temperatures in the sixties. It means my dogs spend more time outside, and my students start to wiggle like worms on a hook. It means the air will soon be sweet with the smell of flowering bushes, and purple azaleas will burst forth on every block.
The air feels like my friend though the humidity makes me look like I’ve been rubbing a balloon on my head. I can go for a walk without shivering, and I can actually smell warm saltiness in the air. I moved here 24 years ago from Wisconsin, and I’ve happily embraced the tradition of watching lightning web across the sky from my porch as the rain patters its relentless march. Funny thing is, my dogs are all rescues, and have always been terrified during thunderstorms. Last time, they came out on the porch and watched with me after all these years.
I’m always thrilled that there’s no cold slicing through me at this time of year. It also means that Mobile Writers Guild is starting another anthology. The theme is storms–actual weather. This larger than life thing that brings growth and devastation. Tragedy can show us things about people that nothing else will. As a collector of stories, I’d love to hear yours. Did a storm bring you reconciliation or devastation, or maybe it showed you a hidden treasure?