If I'm honest I'll admit that the only time I like seeing the tail end of a storm is during the summer when the sun comes out strong and hot, like a celebration. Any other time the end of snowfall or rainfall feels kind of sad.
When I was young and foolish I used to head out in the middle of summer thunder showers. Night showers were the best because the air would seem to be singing. Wind that still held the days long heat pressing against shorts and t-shirt, the sudden rush of water as it was let loose from heavy green black clouds. The rush of being under a pregnant cloud flashing with energy and rumbling with the same is/was exhilarating.
One night while circling the small park in front of our house during one of these storms, fork lightning shot down above my head, followed by the instantaneous crack and rumble of air rushing into the burnt out vacuum left by the bolt. I've never felt the same rush again, half delight half adrenalin rush.
There's a sense of power to be had walking in a storm, unprotected from what is being thrown at you. It's because you become a part of it rather than apart from it. To welcome nature in with open arms is to befriend her.
I've been thinking about my recent travels in the snow falls and I think I'm happiest when I welcome the elements to me. No umbrellas to hold off the snow and rain. The only thing that could be improved upon is the glasses.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
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