Gravel & Grace
It looked like a bomb had gone off.
The clouds bubbled over the top of themselves like boiling water in a way-too-small pot, signifying the intensity of what was really happening within them. Below the boiling clouds, the structure ebbed and flowed like a river, and even below that, it spun and rotated like a spinning top which was curling toward the ground like a tentacle.
It was a supercell, the most powerful type of thunderstorm on Earth, and it was alive.
The storm itself was massive, sprawling across the entire horizon, its updraft shooting some 60,000 feet straight above my head. Somewhere underneath the base of it, ravaging winds were producing widespread damage; very large hail stones were falling and pounding the ground, powerful wind gusts were ripping siding off homes, and somewhere within the mass of clouds a tornado was tearing up the dirt.