I love English weather.
Someone has to.
I love the endless cloud formations, the varying shades all congregating, a merging melting pot occupying the same space better than humanity can.
Then again, the skies occasionally produce tornadoes. Sometimes like people, nature spirals out of control. I have been told the UK has more tornadoes than anywhere in the world (per square km), they just often form in rural areas and are nowhere near as destructive as those seen in the States.
I did in fact see one off the coast of Majorca around the year 2000. Incredible, something I have always wanted to see unfolding in front of my very eyes. A couple of miles out to sea, it’s a shame smart phones weren’t a thing. We decided to leave our chunky video camera in the hotel as we had no plans other than the pool. To this day my sister and I argue as to who saw it first. It was definitely me.
I also look up and remain thankful that my country does not endure regular natural disasters. I have to, I thank anything and everything that keeps me here for as long as I am. Not that I am thankful that others go through this instead, it hurts every time I have seen the media coverage of a tsunami slamming into a coastline or a quake tearing the ground apart. What I do consider are the religious nations suffering such forces. Is that why they are religious, sometimes prayer is only thing left? Why do I escape these nightmare scenarios in a relatively non-religious nation? Why do dedicated theists live perilously at the bottom of an active volcano or in long lasting droughts?
Nature is a beautiful thing, but it likes to kill us.