Storm Warning
Why clouds matter to me…
Kansas is not known as “big sky country.” It’s not on our license plate or state flag or whatever—that’s Montana. To date, I’ve never been to Montana so far as I know, but I did grow up in southwest Kansas, out on the great plains. I grew up with big vistas and wide open spaces.
Where I come from, you can see the curvature of the earth, at least that’s why my science teacher said. Standing on top of my dad’s grain bin, I could see over the horizon. With good binoculars, I could see town, 10 to 12 miles away, and if the weather was just right, even make out buildings and billboards.
It would be fun to lapse into a tall tale here, but I’ll save it for another day. I really do have a mission in this post: to explain my fascination with clouds.
Photo by Raychel Sanner on Unsplash of a storm over Oklahoma (a Kansas adjacent state with its share of such weather, too).
So, it all began back there, out west, where we could see trouble coming from a mile away—or as established, 10 miles away. When a storm was rolling in, it was big scale pageantry.
Due to the landscape (and I mean all the way to the Rockies west of us to the plains we were standing on) and the conditions I grew up in…storms announced themselves in Cumulonimbus Thunderheads that brushed their anvil flattops on the ceiling of the atmosphere. They came frowning down on earthlings like me with an authority and presence that served as my introduction to awe.
Thunderheads, and the tremendous power and glory that rolled in with them, gave me a glimpse of God. At the time I thought my god was Thor, but anyway…
Majesties of billowing white wonder would come to loom over us, from horizon to horizon, darkening day into night. Everything would change on those summer days. Dropping temperatures, crackling lightning, and rumbling thunder would cancel baseball games and close the pool. Every farmer with any wits about him would retreat to the homestead to ride out the storm.
Mark Jarvis, teenage meteorologist, would continue on the tractor, sometimes driving it to the highest hill in the area for an even better view. It really was amazing to witness the approaching storm, perched on the back of my dad’s John Deere in a glass cabin with a fantastic panorama of power.
When the bad storms came through, even country music on the radio took a back seat. That’s when I knew I was really in for a treat, when the broadcasters started in with severe weather warnings and advice to take cover. I used to have it all memorized and rattled it off with them as I inhaled the ether and put my feet up on the tractor’s steering wheel.
The National Weather Service has issued a Severe Thunderstorm Warning for southwestern Grant county and northern Stevens county that remains in effect until 4:55 p.m. A severe thunderstorm was located in Morton county near Elkhart, Kansas, at 4:30p.m., and is now moving east at 35 mph. This storm has a history of producing quarter size hail…
I’ve seen my share of tornadoes. I’ve seen satellite images of hurricanes. I was beaten nearly unconscious once trying to cover my dad’s Thunderbird in a hail storm…but none of that compares to the incredible adventure of watching storms rolling through.
So, that’s why I have created massive air ships that spawn storms like those you’re reading of here. I’m taking the most impressive element of my upbringing and blowing even that out of proportion.
I find it difficult to keep something so astounding as a backdrop to these novels, but if I am successful, then what’s in the foreground will stand off the page even more!
It’s a goal, at any rate.
