The storm blew in with little warning — fierce, bending saplings to their breaking point. The wind swept fine particles from the dry, dusty roads and newly plowed fields to create a cloud of dust that blocked the late afternoon sun’s rays, bringing premature darkness. Soon the metallic vibrating of nearby generators created a surprise calm, a base pulse underscoring the mighty storm.
Second only to elephants, I love storms. The more wind and rain the better.
The swirling, all-encompassing embrace of the storm’s powerful wind reminds me of Tennessee. Trees dancing outside my door, drapes floating to and fro, bed sheets lifting like butterflies and gently floating back down. Although these storms don’t produce the same spectacular lighting show as the ones back home, the power of their display is identical.
Sitting in the middle of a storm I can effortlessly be in the moment. I feel engulfed by ancient gods and nature’s grandeur. I feel at peace, one with the world.
Here comes the gentle tap, tap, tap of raindrops, which I bet will soon explode into a deafening downpour—my favorite part. Metal roofs become their keyboard, magnifying their music, creating one of nature’s unmatched symphonies.
Oh thunder — here it comes — the exclamation point! Reminds me of Jenny, thumping her trunk on the ground to accentuate her excitement, sending vibrations in every direction to be absorbed by sensitive receptive feet.
The lightening has finally arrived — what a show! The wind carries a light mist of rain through my open door, bringing with it the scent of fresh flowers, refreshing my skin and lifting my spirits.
Together, thunder, deep as mighty drumbeats and lightning flashes like a trillion intermittent flash bulbs.
Being in the moment with such power is inspiring. I can think of nothing more impressive and awe inspiring than storms…except for elephants, of course.
And now the long awaited crescendo–the skies open up in a deafening downpour. Not to be outdone, the thunder increases its volume. The rain responds in sheets of water. The drapes now beat against the windows, violently flapping back and forth, in time with the storm’s well-orchestrated concert.
Nature at her finest.
Bathed in the joy storms create for me, I silently sit in the very center absorbing every glorious bit of her, knowing that like all good things, this storm too will soon pass.
The storm is spent and quiet begins to settle. Distant ripples of thunder suggest that she is moving on. But not before sending one last gust of wind and splash of rain, rattling the roof tops and reminding me what joy nature brings.
