And now begins the portion of the year where I spend a good deal of time 1) hoping a tree or large parts of a tree don’t fall on my house 2) in the basement at work, fidgeting as a siren blasts in my ear and deadline nears 3) pretending that either of those things are anywhere near as terrifying as the prospect of an actual tornado coming across that river and fucking things up.
Lifelong Tornado Alley resident here. But this aspect of spring never gets any easier, no matter how many times you run through the drill.
Please please please photo-doc all the awesome tornado atmospheres I miss out on living up here. In exchange, I will ask Aeolus to lay off your homestead.