Of Storms

I sit on the back porch, looking out over the water as the wind and thunder whip around in all directions. Lighting flashes brilliantly and the smell of the rain comes in with sound of its drops in the trees.

The power is out, but it’s no loss. And one would think with as much rain as here has been lately I would be sick of it. But there is seething wonderful about when it rains in the country, out on the water. It is beautiful- the sights, sounds and smells of a storm rolling in. Something wild, untame and primal.

Life is that way sometimes too. We ride out the storm, go through the waves, roll wih the current and hope we don’t have to swim upstream too often. We take frequent breaks to rest when we do.

I wish I could write something deep and wise at this moment. Wish I could impart some deeply philosophical gem of thought. But the truth is things have been a bit introverted lately. I have been tending to my own.

And now it is time to enjoy the storm, now that I am no longer in the middle of it. Now it is time to sit on the safety of my porch; covered, dry and protected, on awe of the storms raw power. No wonder we may feel overwhelmed when we are in its path.

And I pour a glass of wine, breath in the soft wet air, and smile.

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