It was an odd evening in Kansas City last night. The weather was unusually warm for April, and the wind so strong that the trees made a constant rushing sound. The air had a heavy, tropical feel to it.

If I closed my eyes, I could pretend that I was in Flamingo, on the southern tip of the Everglades. The sound of the wind was the sound of the sea, and the voices of people on their porches, having a beer, were the voices of fishermen on the beach.

I'm sorry to hear about the six deaths in Oklahoma. Most of the news has been less terrible than that - property damage, tornadoes spotted, and even hail the size of baseballs.