Today was my favorite kind of day.

The kind of day where nature rages and pauses and rages some more.

A day where lightning lashes the sky and wind hurls rain for the sole purpose of driving people inside and claiming the world for her own.

Landscapers abandon lawns, leaving them half mowed.

School kids scramble from class to class; bravado gone, heads bowed, books become shields; “Intro to Physics” deflecting and absorbing in formulaic ways not yet learned and far from mastered.

Outdoor activity stops and the world goes silent except for the sound of water filtering through leaves and the occasional squeal of someone, somehow, caught unaware.

I watch it all from the shelter of my old house.

Hear it, distanced and muffled through walls and a roof, time tested and reliable.

I realize my favorite weather is a novelty.

A luxury not afforded to everyone.

For some, the storm rages harder and home is not a safe place.

I pull the curtains wider to take in the storm, feel cats rubbing at my ankle, hear the teapot hiss and whistle, watch people on the street scatter for shelter, realize some have no place to go and physics has no mercy.