Some of my fondest memories of my childhood include those of sitting under the shelter of an open garage door watching thunderstorms with my Dad. We would pull out the lawn chairs and wait for the show. I still love the ozone smell and the sight of the last rays of light breaking through ominous clouds that promise to burst at any moment.
I cherish my memories of sitting with Dad, under shelter and dry while the world outside the door was being reminded of the power of mother nature. The simple act of counting the seconds between the brilliant light and the massive clap of thunder seemed to release any fear that I may have had around the storm.
Now that I am no longer a child, the first signs of a storm brewing send me running to close the open windows and then out to lay down the downspouts extenders so they can guide the rain from the eavestroughs away from the house.
Sometimes I can slow myself down long enough to sit and take in the beautiful display of power, and to reminisce about my time spent with Dad. Those are the moments that remind me that, for many people, their home is so much more than a shelter from the rain, it is where memories are made that will last a lifetime.