Underneath the anvil cloud, a twister pours its rage upon the hapless plain. The storm is maybe about sixty kilometers away. High aloft, it's pulling massive streamers of cold air out from the jet stream. You can see one of these streamers spiral into the heart of the cloud. There were several other streamers in the sky that did not make it into the frame of my photograph.
The distant violence of this scene did nothing to convince us to become tornado chasers, though. We were happy to be travelling away from the center of destruction.
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