Tallinn (and presumably other areas along the north coast) was struck by a fierce thunderstorm in the early hours of this morning. I was woken at 3.30 by a flash of lighting or a peal of thunder, or possibly the driving rain that accompanied the storm, and reverted to my childhood almost immediately.You see, thunder and lightning are unusual occurences here in Estonia. There's something about the climate (basically the fact that it's never hot) that means thunderstorms are just not part of life. In Australia, a summer day is not a summer day if it doesn't end in a thunderstorm and an electric light show. It's one of the few things I miss about the country: the change in the air; the smell of ozone, or whatever it is; the stark contrast in temperature before and after.
So to be woken in the middle of the night here by a right corker of a storm was a rare treat. I lay there doing the whole counting thing between flashes of lightning and accompanying thunder. I pulled the doonah up under my chin when the maths told me I should - and as I had always done as a kid, petrified and exhilarated at the same time - and an explosive burst of thunder right overhead made the building shake and set off alarms left, right and centre.
The whole thing lasted a good few hours. It had gone six when I last checked the time, and though I had dozed my way through most of it, I reckon I still registered every jolt and every bolt. Bloody brilliant.
2 comments:
I love thunderstorms, too. When I was young growing up on the gulf coast of Texas, I always prayed (because at that age I prayed) that god would make all hurricanes hit Texas. EVen now, when I no longer live there, I am disappointed when a big hurricane that looks like it's heading for Texas veers off for Mexico or Louisiana or wherever.
Isn't it rude when these other lesser states and nations hog all the natural disasters? They really ought to learn to play fair.
Post a Comment