Last Friday evening, there was a thunderstorm here. It had been quite dry for a little while, and very hot as well, so rain was needed. The storm came just at the beginning of dusk and the evening sky was still light when the thunder first began to roll.
I've said before that I love the rain, and will stand out in it, as long as there's no lightning. It became obvious right away, though, that this was not going to be a stand-out-in-it rain. I was, however, feeling a bit confined and blue, and I didn't feel like waiting out the storm in the house. I went out onto the front porch, sat on the bench there, and lost myself in the rain and the light and the sound.
It was a magnificent show. The treetops swayed wildly against the darkening sky, and I marveled that these great solid objects could bend enough to withstand such winds. The thunder was loud enough on several occasions to be felt in my chest, and wild enough to crackle like fireworks. Lightning blazed in the sky. My hair curled crazily with the wind and the humidity, but the porch roof kept me dry except my bare feet and legs. It was magnificent.
I wonder how many people go out to sit and watch a storm? I don't remember ever being frightened of them growing up, but the thirty years I spent most recently living on the open prairie made me somewhat nervous of them. With nothing to stop the wind, it becomes a force with which to be reckoned. Now that I live in a more sheltered place, I'm rediscovering my love of these great works of Nature.
With all that's going on in my life right now, I think it was a good thing for me to sit out and watch a thunderstorm. It helped me remember that I am just a very small part of this universe we inhabit, and that the problems that take up so much of my thoughts are proportionately small, as well. It helped me try to slow down...take it easy...just be.
It's a good lesson for me in these trying days. I do love a good storm.