Thomas Loades
(Probabaly should've made this a poll, but I'm largely computer-illiterate. 
)
Anyway: I used to be utterly terrified of thunder when I was really young (ca. age 2–7), to the point where, at the most distant, non-loud rumble of thunder, I would cover my ears and wait for the storm to go. It used to be really scary at night for no real reason — just was. It would always wake me up, and no pillow or anything to plug the ears would dampen the noise.
Now, it's different . . . I'm not scared at all. Maybe I outgrew it, or something. But I still jump at the REALLY loud (close) ones — they tend to make the walls of my house vibrate.
That said, when I was four — the peak of the scared period — there was this awesome storm that came over the house we lived in at the time (not in the inexplicable weather void our present one is in); the clouds were green, and I'll never forget that, or the hail, which is still the largest I've ever seen — golf-ball size. (I wanted to run out and catch them, and my mother had to restrain me.) I was so utterly entranced by the hail and clouds that while I remember all the clamor the stones maade falling on the sheet-metal carport, I didn't hear the thunder at all (though it was there).
)Anyway: I used to be utterly terrified of thunder when I was really young (ca. age 2–7), to the point where, at the most distant, non-loud rumble of thunder, I would cover my ears and wait for the storm to go. It used to be really scary at night for no real reason — just was. It would always wake me up, and no pillow or anything to plug the ears would dampen the noise.
Now, it's different . . . I'm not scared at all. Maybe I outgrew it, or something. But I still jump at the REALLY loud (close) ones — they tend to make the walls of my house vibrate.
That said, when I was four — the peak of the scared period — there was this awesome storm that came over the house we lived in at the time (not in the inexplicable weather void our present one is in); the clouds were green, and I'll never forget that, or the hail, which is still the largest I've ever seen — golf-ball size. (I wanted to run out and catch them, and my mother had to restrain me.) I was so utterly entranced by the hail and clouds that while I remember all the clamor the stones maade falling on the sheet-metal carport, I didn't hear the thunder at all (though it was there).
