Fierce

Very rarely during my childhood was I the girl that wanted Barbies and makeup (not that that is inherently bad-I just knew I was different). I wanted so much more; I wanted to chase tornadoes. I grew up adoring the meteorologists on the various news stations. Absorbing every bit of weather jargon they could give me. They didn’t know it, but they were teaching a generation of young women about a love for a different kind of science.

A love that unlike several relationships I’ve been apart of, has never failed me. It gave me courage, passion, and encouragement. It nourished a mind that hungered for the knowledge sixth grade science class would give me. Yearned for more as I met real storm chasers at a gas station in rural Oklahoma. And fueled a special kind of crazy that would push a 10 year old me to dash to the end of our street when I saw a funnel cloud forming, just so I could watch it up close.

I do not crave the destruction that I know weather can bring. I’d rather get people the knowledge they need to make safe, informed decisions. I know destruction is usually imminent and I prepare for that. What I do crave is the thrill. The sheer beauty that does come with that destructive power. Pure, unadulterated power. I learned and acknowledged early on that Mother Nature is the boss. She calls the shots and we stand back and admire it, like Bob Ross viewers.

It is a common trait amongst us to share that passion; that drive to learn more. The desire to be in the moment, forecasting by the seat of your pants, watching something unfold that only mere hours ago, didn’t even exist.

This love is a fierce one. It has beckoned me for 20 years and will call me for 40 more (or until I die). If my childhood was were the seeds took root, my adulthood is where it continues to grow.