American Pie: Thor – Alive And Well In Florida
...The mornings around where I live, generally have clear skies early, but being as flat as Florida is, it’s not long before you see the cumulous clouds building on the horizon. By noon, they are in full sail, like magnificent galleons. Towering ships, full of energy and menace, looking from the ground as though they’re made of whipped cream, not the vapor that they are...
In prose as urgent as the weather it describes John Merchant tells of turbulent storms in Florida and England.
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As long as you’re somewhere safe and dry, it’s hard to beat a good Florida thunderstorm for sheer spectacle. Southern Florida is a sub-tropical region, and that means we get the majority of our rain in the summer and Fall. Ninety-degree (32°C) days, and humidity that’s almost off the scale, guarantee thunderstorms almost every afternoon.
The only time to do strenuous outdoor chores or exercise is early in the morning. After that, if you’re fortunate, you retire to the blessed coolness and dryness of an air-conditioned home or workplace. I’m not a shopping mall lover, but if you want to get some exercise later in the day, they’re great places to do it.
For reason’s best known to themselves, the mall developers in Florida are opting to build open precincts rather than the totally enclosed establishments of the past, so the luxury of an air-conditioned stroll may soon be just a memory.
The mornings around where I live, generally have clear skies early, but being as flat as Florida is, it’s not long before you see the cumulous clouds building on the horizon. By noon, they are in full sail, like magnificent galleons. Towering ships, full of energy and menace, looking from the ground as though they’re made of whipped cream, not the vapor that they are.
When I started using air travel regularly for business trips in the ‘70’s, the Federal Aviation Authority (FAA) allowed pilots to fly through these cumulous clouds; an often frightening and exhausting experience for travelers. Many times I would end such flights feeling drained and shaken from sudden losses in altitude and the pummeling from turbulent air.
One time, after the FAA had thankfully changed its directive, forcing pilots to fly around heavy cumulus clouds, I was on a flight to the Caribbean when it appeared that the pilot was about to ignore the new stipulation. As we approached the huge cloud formation, clearly on a collision course, I grew more and more tense, but though we passed close enough to reach out and touch it, the plane finally skirted the monster.
As a result, I was treated to a grandstand view of the explosive tumult that goes on inside such clouds, without the discomfort. Through the luminous vapor I could see hundreds of lightning flashes, striking in all directions. It was better than any firework display I have ever seen, and a lot quieter from inside the plane, but it gave me a clear idea of the awe-inspiring power thunderheads can wield.
By late afternoon in my neighborhood, there’s a good chance of a thundercloud or two overhead. What looked like white balls of fluff from a distance, now are almost black, shutting out the sun and bringing on the streetlights and car headlights. A subdued roll of drums introduces the first raindrops – big, serious splashes, and the wind picks up, whipping the palm trees.
Soon the rain is torrenting down, and cars are pulling onto the hard shoulder. Then all hell breaks loose – the vicious crackles of lightning, followed at shorter and shorter intervals by teeth rattling thunder. Just as suddenly as it came, the wind begins to die, and the drumming of the rain fades to a gentle hiss. The loudest sound is of water gushing down the street drains. The cars resume their journey, and the sun returns, as if from an eclipse.
All is a’sparkle, and the drainages ditches at the roadside are magically full of tiny frogs. The Wood Storks, Herons and Egrets know this of old, and are soon slurping them down, their plumage startlingly white against the rich green of the drenched grasses. They eat greedily and rapidly, conscious of the need to return to their roosting places before sunset.
These storms are over very quickly, unlike those I experienced as a child in Sheffield, England. Possibly because of the hilly terrain, thunderstorms took a long time to build-up, becoming very powerful, and hung around for what seemed hours. Fortunately they didn’t occur very often, but were quite frightening.
One storm I remember was so bad my whole family sat on the stairs, away from the windows, until it was over. The lightening seemed constant, and the trees and plants took on a violet aura. We were sure the house would be damaged, just from the thunder alone. Every loose thing in the place vibrated with each thunderclap. My Florida storms are almost benevolent by comparison, and thankfully soon over.
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