Thunder

I love thunder and lightning shows.  I love to press my face against the window pane, absorbing the energy around me.  I love to sit on a porch feeling the spray of the raindrops.

I love a good storm when I'm in a valley, because the thunder bounces from hill to hill in a never-ending crescendo.  I can hear it clap loudly for my attention,and grumble as it rolls restlessly through the forested lands...echoing, echoing...

I love the lightning when it streaks from the heavens or flashes like a thousand neon lights in the distance.  I love the bright forks, more dramatic than any fireworks display.  I love the crackle in the air and the crisp smell of ozone being formed.

I love the rain when it is so powerful that it rushes like a river toward the storm sewer, erupting like a geyser at the end.  I love the way it cleans my car without remuneration and washes my face like a million tears.

I love the wind when it whips the trees into a frenzy, lays flat the grasses and tosses the debris as if it were a tiny tornado.  I love the way it flips my hair onto my face and plays with my skirt as though I was Marilyn Monroe.

I love to watch the gentle waves of the Bay as they build and crash against the pier.  I love the swells as they  reach surfer-worthy status on the lake in a few moments of time.  I love to watch the seagulls as they ride each wave, bobbing and curtsying as though they are paying homage to the power.

Most of all, I love to count the seconds between the lightning and the thunder. . . listening as it moves farther away...hoping it will come back soon and cleanse my world.