i miss summer thunderstorms.
the smell of lightning in the foothills, charging the forests with negative ions, refreshing the soul.
the heavy plopping of thick rain drops on the roof, the windows, the trees, my head.
the sudden flash of lightning penetrating my bones. the great roll of thunder shaking my core.
drenched, standing in the rain, face to the sky, arms outstretched, taking in each second or fraction thereof, a part of the force powering the downpour, the electricity in the air, the energy in the sounds, vibrating everything around.
even the most dangerous storms are worth being in. if the rain and the wind could sweep me away, i’d let it.
for a moment, i am taken to the ends of the earth. i see the mountains, the desert, the fields. i see great and small animals. i see all manner of things, man-made and not. we are connected. i am in the storm’s embrace, at its mercy, taken wherever it has been, deeply imbedded in its desire to move forward, knowing it will die, longing not to. i don’t want it to die. i don’t want it to end. i see everything the storm has seen. it sees me.
in a flash of lightning, in a roll of thunder, i am brought back, left by a magnificent force. we will never meet again.