As I drove home tonight, heading east from downtown Columbus, I could see the heavy black clouds rapidly approaching in my rear view mirror. Suddenly it was upon me — one of those violent thunderstorms that are as much a part of summer in Ohio as sweet corn or Little League baseball games.
You forget how powerful these storms are until you are out in the middle of one, with lightning forking down and the wind lashing the rain across the pavement. Even the inside of an SUV feels a bit insecure when the crack and roll of heavy thunder shakes the countryside and the trees bow down in recognition of the storm’s might.
But you turn your wipers to their fastest tempo, and you slow down to avoid hydroplaning on the water-covered pavement, and you leave a bit more distance between your car and the one ahead of you, and you move on. Eventually, the storms pass, as they always do.