~ ~ ~ f r o m O C T O B E R 2 0 0 4 ~ ~ ~
It is quiet when it first comes. Too quiet to be safe. The trees shiver, their uppermost branches tremble as the breeze arrives. The birds have fallen silent – where did they go? What do the birds do in times like this?
There is dread in the silence. Let it come and be done. Wreak your havoc and move on.
A low growl is heard – maybe a dog or a hungry human. Then the first flash, at a far-off distance.
The rustling begins. Another flash, but closer. It is coming. The definitive sound of thunder, no longer to be imagined away. More flashes of light, followed by an anticipatory intake of breath – held… held… before the low rumble of thunder again. A long, rolling wake of guttural moaning is heard – a nauseating sound, but exciting too.
Exhilaration and awe, far greater than any human creation, and then strike upon strike of lightning.
It happens quickly now, the explosive cadence of blinding light and deafening roar, a fury of nature set loose upon the land, and the rain, released at last. Sheets of it, speeding downward, descending from a dark sky. The wind is fierce and the water doesn’t know where to go.
A siren wails somewhere. Someone is in trouble.
