FIRST PERSON | DALLAS -- When it comes to weather, this spring was somewhat bizarre. It was too hot too early and then too cold and then hot again. So here we are in the month of June that feels like August. Our Texan calendars should speak up and say: "Howdy y'all. Today is June 14 but it feels like August 30. Have a nice day!"
Back in May, I heard from my family in Bosnia. They had two inches of snow. I guess that's why I don't live close to mountains anymore. I miss trees and deep green shades of foliage that change into tangerine orange and cayenne brown in September. I miss hiking trails in July and pure white mountain peaks in December. I miss Bosnian cold spring waters and I miss my family. Fifteen years ago, I chose Texas to be my home. People say that you could fit 11 Bosnians in Texas. I don't need 11 of them, but sometimes I would love to move that one Bosnia of mine and fit it here between my favorite Texan Plains and my Dallas heart.
Texas weather can be kind of like a youthful and impulsive Southern woman. She is pretty and gregarious, sweet and yes, she is definitely hot.
But there is a moment when this young lady seems to be fed up with all the stuff that's going on in the world in which she did not choose to participate: greenhouse gases, pollution, dirt, toxic waste and fumes, energy imbalance, not to mention people and their wooden and cement structures that crawl all over this planet like an unstoppable illness. So, Nature gets up makes this quick fussy sound, and then we all know that a perfect storm is approaching.
Yesterday, a pretty picture of my Turtle Creek backyard framed in a large window became a little murky. I went outside to check it out. The air carried an aroma of rain and I sensed a few drops of drizzle. It was windy. I could see the thunderhead coming from the North. An immense gloomy cloud was moving at high speed. The wind was blowing in my face and I felt so small. We are so tiny in front of these intense forces of our planet.
The storm passed through. It picked up some tree branches, ruined a few windows and messed with people's yards, lawn chairs, umbrellas and golf carts. A family of ducks in the nearby creek that rushed to hide long before the storm revealed itself was now coming out.
A sharp thunder was still rumbling through the air. This again reminded me of my homeland. Mother Nature did not cause Bosnian thunder; it was people that managed to dislike each other so much that they became murky and destructive themselves.
The same way it's happening here, after this Dallas storm, my native city of Sarajevo is recovering. Something new and much better is surely coming our way, and we desperately need it.