The weather report issued a "watch" for tornados. The "watch" soon became a "warning" prompting me to go outside to see what was happening. I would also be closer to my tornado "safe place." Remember, I live in a log home. You know what that is. . . trees with notches cut in the end, stacked on top of each other with mostly gravity to keep them in place. I remember Lincoln Logs as a child - clean up was quick.
Clouds churned ominously in the gray static sky.
The sun had been trying to impose its light for over an hour, highlighting dark trees with silver and pink hues on their eastern front.
Birds sought shelter where they could,
flying in drunken paths across the windy sky.
The front settled in . . .
. . . and by 8:00 am darkness retook my world.
Then the rains came hard.
Our Tornado Warning moved west and I moved inside.