Thunderstorms

It’s 9 AM and the sky is dark and heavy. It feels more like dusk than morning. There’s a nearly constant rumble of distant thunder and then the occasional CRACK and BOOM from nearby lightning.

I love this kind of weather. I’ve opened the windows so I can hear the gentle patter of rain that contrasts in mood with the loud irruptions of thunder.

Oddly, I feel both energized and calmed by the storm. All my senses are awake and enjoying the show, but I’m also content to sit still watching and listening. Bituminous is purring and kneading on my lap, Rowan and Petra are lying with heads up and alert on either side of me. Milo is nervous, but less than he used to be. We’ve had so many thunderstorms this summer that he seems to be getting used to them. Silver is wandering around, sniffing each of the dogs and standing up to sniff Bituminous. She seems oblivious to the storm.

I love the power and extremes in nature. The depths of the ocean fascinate me. Thinking of the far reaches of the universe awes me and makes me feel incredibly small but full of wonder. I love the smooth, hard rock of the trails at Minnewaska and the soft, moist moss that blankets the Adirondacks. Sunrise and sunset on the shortest day and the longest day. The baking heat at the height of summer (very briefly please) and the crackly cold of the dead of winter. It’s all special and delightful, each in its own way.

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