Donner und blitzen
I went swimming to escape the 30º heat this afternoon. The outdoor pool at my local place, on top of the hill at Kravi Hora, was closed, for some reason.
During my refreshing indoor dip, through the huge floor-to-roof windows, I watched a huge thunderstorm roll over the city from the west.
Unfortunately, this meant that the pool closed a little early and my friends and I were ejected into the torrent in our summer clothes.
We scuttled into a nearby vaguely Tex-Mex steakhouse for food and shelter. Not what we planned, but it wasn't bad at all.
When we emerged, the storm had abated, so I put my friends on the tram and walked home to change into drier clothes. I went upstairs barefoot -- the cool of the tiled floors is pleasant in this heat. I went into my room in the dark, preserving a bit of night vision, to see if from my north-facing window I could see the huge firework display planned for tonight at the dam. I knew it was happening, weather notwithstanding, because of the sounds. Either that or Vladimir Putin has taken Slovakia and started the invasion.
No joy. I could hear them but not see them.
So I put the light on.
The storm had one effect. It had knocked the open pot of stationery supplues on my window-ledge onto the floor, which was almost completely covered in large and small drawing pins.
And somehow, in the dark, I missed them all.
During my refreshing indoor dip, through the huge floor-to-roof windows, I watched a huge thunderstorm roll over the city from the west.
Unfortunately, this meant that the pool closed a little early and my friends and I were ejected into the torrent in our summer clothes.
We scuttled into a nearby vaguely Tex-Mex steakhouse for food and shelter. Not what we planned, but it wasn't bad at all.
When we emerged, the storm had abated, so I put my friends on the tram and walked home to change into drier clothes. I went upstairs barefoot -- the cool of the tiled floors is pleasant in this heat. I went into my room in the dark, preserving a bit of night vision, to see if from my north-facing window I could see the huge firework display planned for tonight at the dam. I knew it was happening, weather notwithstanding, because of the sounds. Either that or Vladimir Putin has taken Slovakia and started the invasion.
No joy. I could hear them but not see them.
So I put the light on.
The storm had one effect. It had knocked the open pot of stationery supplues on my window-ledge onto the floor, which was almost completely covered in large and small drawing pins.
And somehow, in the dark, I missed them all.