There’s been a bit of severe weather talk this afternoon. We even got an email at work suggesting we keep our NOAA weather alert radios on through the night.

In a way it almost feels like hurricane season (though we didn’t have to bag the computers at the office before we left). I suppose it’s better to be safe than sorry, but it seems like our weather people cry wolf a little too often. It’s a bit much when the severe weather alert is a semi-permanent fixture on the local weather forecast on the web. I wonder if they should include “the psychology of forecasting” in the curriculum at meteorology school.

Everyone has just settled down for the night here, and it’s just now coming down a little hard. It’s a little eery (but in a good way) sitting here in the dark surfing the web while the wind whips the rain against the window and the thunder grumbles in the distance.

I would never have thought it possible as a kid, but part of me likes a good thunderstorm. (I could do without the tornados.) I remember when we first moved here I was half convinced a thunderstorm meant a hurricane was coming. I caught on pretty quick that first summer though… even at eight I knew that hurricanes didn’t strike every other day. Still, they scared the bejesus out of me.

Now they seem kind of cool. The gusty winds, the swirling downpours, the distant rumble that’s occasionally punctuated by a flash-bang that rattles the walls and sends a little chill up your spine… what can I say? I’m a weather junkie. It’s a little thrill that breaks up the routine.

This is probably one more reason (in a growing pile of reasons) to question my state of mind, but I think they’d be one of the things I’d really miss if we ever moved.