There Are No Tornadoes In Minnesota
Except there just was one.
Only my batteries died so I got photos of the aftermath instead.
I can tell you however that being able to SEE wind is fucking bizarre, and also I can personally attest to the ungodly roaring sound it makes. Especially notable is the capricious way the gentle Minnesota breeze has of casually snapping the neighbor's 50 year old apple tree at the base like a fucking toothpick and hurling it Lukaward in a tumble like the world's worst bowling strike. It was so loud I didn't even hear it go. I only realized the huge chunk of debris was a whole tree when I saw the stump during my post-storm walkaround.
It's cool though. I'm cool. Mister Tree got cycloned to my left and murdered their backyard playhouse instead. The slide is gonna need therapy. Also there was a greenhouse in the garden next to our backyard, and now there is a large hole in their fence instead. The greenhouse now lives in Mel's yard, some houses down. He isn't pleased to be inheriting new real estate but fuck him, it looks rad.
Also fun to note: In the event of STRONG wind, leaves may blow THIS way, but branches that have been temporarily granted a pass on gravity will go THAT way and yes they will collide and yes it will be awesome and yes I was outside and no I am not ashamed to admit it.
I mean it blew my door open. That's practically sticking a hand up your shirt and tweaking a nipple. An adventure nipple.
They tell you to seek shelter in a basement. Well, my apartment IS a basement. Also doorways. The door to the porch counts. Thus I feel perfectly justified in being outside while my neighborhood had a seizure and safety can just suck it.
Random observations:
I am pretty sure there was a street here earlier. I mean I have nothing against topiary but cars live on asphalt.
The sirens wailed before the event, and shortly after the event. But not during. That would be absurd.
People freak out if you tell them what their yard looked like in midair because apparently this is not something you are supposed to be watching from inside the rotation. Feh I say. STFU and enjoy the tale of how your shed fell in forbidden love with a huge slab of cottonwood. We both know how the story ends but it's titillating.
Oh hey look more freaky clouds. Guess I know what I'm doing with my afternoon.
Only my batteries died so I got photos of the aftermath instead.
I can tell you however that being able to SEE wind is fucking bizarre, and also I can personally attest to the ungodly roaring sound it makes. Especially notable is the capricious way the gentle Minnesota breeze has of casually snapping the neighbor's 50 year old apple tree at the base like a fucking toothpick and hurling it Lukaward in a tumble like the world's worst bowling strike. It was so loud I didn't even hear it go. I only realized the huge chunk of debris was a whole tree when I saw the stump during my post-storm walkaround.
It's cool though. I'm cool. Mister Tree got cycloned to my left and murdered their backyard playhouse instead. The slide is gonna need therapy. Also there was a greenhouse in the garden next to our backyard, and now there is a large hole in their fence instead. The greenhouse now lives in Mel's yard, some houses down. He isn't pleased to be inheriting new real estate but fuck him, it looks rad.
Also fun to note: In the event of STRONG wind, leaves may blow THIS way, but branches that have been temporarily granted a pass on gravity will go THAT way and yes they will collide and yes it will be awesome and yes I was outside and no I am not ashamed to admit it.
I mean it blew my door open. That's practically sticking a hand up your shirt and tweaking a nipple. An adventure nipple.
They tell you to seek shelter in a basement. Well, my apartment IS a basement. Also doorways. The door to the porch counts. Thus I feel perfectly justified in being outside while my neighborhood had a seizure and safety can just suck it.
Random observations:
I am pretty sure there was a street here earlier. I mean I have nothing against topiary but cars live on asphalt.
The sirens wailed before the event, and shortly after the event. But not during. That would be absurd.
People freak out if you tell them what their yard looked like in midair because apparently this is not something you are supposed to be watching from inside the rotation. Feh I say. STFU and enjoy the tale of how your shed fell in forbidden love with a huge slab of cottonwood. We both know how the story ends but it's titillating.
Oh hey look more freaky clouds. Guess I know what I'm doing with my afternoon.