Spring on the eastern seaboard can be a tumultuous season. The wind roars; the rain falls in torrents. There is also the potential for storms of impressive magnitude. Here in the southeastern United States there have already been destructive tornadoes. Moreover, raucous thunderstorms rumble through the night rattling the dwellings as well as the psyches of their inhabitants. Last evening was a case in point.

Thunderstorms can instill awe as well as terror. An old axiom states for every second between a lightening flash and its attendant thunderous boom there is a mile of distance between the sighting of the flash and the actual location of the strike. As the night flashed and crashed outside the window, I busily calculated the seconds in my head and came to the determination that the strikes were approximately 7-8 miles away, a knowledge that provided small comfort since the booming was considerable and daunting.

A week ago, as aforesaid, these storms developed into tornadoes. These touched down just a few miles distant and despite their sizeable strength we lost no power, which is something as usually the power goes at the first strike of lightening. Living in a rural county puts us at somewhat of a loss. The restoration of power seems to be allotted by population density, so when it goes there is nothing for it but to wait until the powers that be get around to our thinly populated region. When all is said and done the electricity providers do a stand up job and there is little to complain about.

As put forth above, the wind has been roaring of late. It propels the clouds causing them to sprint across the sky with the exuberance of a recess playground. Once settled, they gather in a corner of the horizon and await the setting sun. This is a nightly occurrence at least when the rain relents, which of late is not often. As this region has experienced a prolonged drought, it is best not to complain but to rejoice in wetter weather. Wet is has been, too.

The precipitation has come in torrents, veritable sheets of rain, giving rise to a verdancy that was lacking in my old realm, i.e., California. There, the long dry season gave way to a rainy winter season that afforded a welcome lushness after the long sere spell of summer. Here the verdant growth is an equally welcome change after the dull grey sameness of the winter season.

Of course the storms here, while destructive, caused nowhere near the devastation of Cyclone Nargis in Southeast Asia. Certainly the damage incurred in the American Southeast was disastrous (only inquire as to its victims) but the ruination of Myanmar (formerly Burma) is that much more complete as its casualties will attest. There is a point, I think all will agree, where the extent of casualty is beyond relativism, where the

death or suffering of a single individual is enough or even more than enough.

Stormy weather is such a relativism – uncomfortable for some but certainly endurable. This may be tough news to swallow for those recent victims of wind driven mayhem but it is necessary referentially for us all in light of larger more chaotic events. Of course, finding myself at the bottom of a hole carved out by seemingly malevolent natural causes may disabuse me of this notion but as a neutral observer it seems an equitable conclusion to draw.