What is it about bad and ugly weather that turns one into a weather forecaster, or perhaps, alarmist is a better word? I had heard a news report that a tornado was forming in my county, and when I looked from a south window, ay, chihuahua , there it was. We have had statewide storms and torrential downpours for the last nine days, and now this eerie event was in my backyard, so to speak. When I stepped onto the deck to snap a photo, I heard warning sirens blaring across the countryside. I immediately ran back into the house, even though the funnel cloud was moving away from my area. There is just something commanding about a siren noise. I felt an overwhelming need to get on the phone and call anyone who’d pick up. So, I called my brother, because I knew he’d have a need to know. While providing a description of the atmosphere, I shouted, IT’S TOUCHING DOWN; IT’S TOUCHING DOWN! I hung up the phone and watched the skies until everything became one solid mass, moving at 15 mph according to Channel Four’s weatherperson, and disappeared over the horizon. I have a new-found respect for those who get in their pickups and chase these storms, for whatever reason, I don’t know .