Red sky at night, sailor's delight. Red sky in the morning, sailor's take warning.

sublime Adjective describing a concept, thing, or state of high spiritual, moral, or intellectual value; or something awe-inspiring. The sublime was a goal to which many nineteenth-century artists aspired in their artworks. (Stokstad Art History)

I have mixed feelings about storms. For the most part I love them. There is something fascinating about them. I think it's the attraction of the sublime. Storms make you feel how little control you have over nature, they make you realize how tiny and insignificant you are in comparison with the rest of the world. There is something awe inspiring about that realization. And in a way I find that comforting. I can't control everything, and as much as I hate that, it is good to know that it's normal and that no one else can control everything either. We are all on equal footing when it comes to that. However, there is still something about storms that terrrifies me. I think it is just the knowledge of their destructive power. Being confronted with something that you know could kill you...I think fear is a healthy response to that. The sublime fascinates me though. It is so prevalent in art and literature. In particular, Canadian artists are fascinated with the sublimity of nature. The fact that we are completely at the mercy of an unforgiving climate has captivated this country's artists and writers since the first explorers arrived here. Our complicated relationship with nature is part of what defines us as Canadians. Margaret Atwood talks about the bush myth and how Canadians live in fear of nature so we group together and build cities, walls to keep nature out. And yet we are also people who go camping and backpacking. Extreme survival skills are something Canadians pride themselves on. Even those of us who live in cities brag about how we have lived through winters of -40C. I have friends who love winter camping, and part of the thrill is the survival aspect. We both fear and revere nature. We hide inside our houses and we attempt to convey the wildness of nature in art. I know this is true in my life and it is a pattern that is seen again and again in various forms of Canadian art. 

It is that point in the Alberta summer where the thunderstorms roll in, the severe storm watches are issued and tonadoes touch down. There was a storm tonight (lots of wind, but short lived) and it ended just as the sun was setting. I love when that happens because crazy weather creates awesome sunsets. Tonight was certainly no exception. Here's a peak at the reddish sky with the trees out back of the house silhouetted against it. So pretty.