The sky darkened early.
It has been hot. I am not someone who likes heat. Truly I do not understand how so many love heat. I do not like sweat dripping, nor being restricted to air conditioned enclosures to avoid it.
The days have sizzled. The temperature hovered in the low 90s Fahrenheit (33 Celsius) all afternoon and into the evening. The humidity washed the blue out of the sky and made the air thick and wavy. Every day there was a forecast for possible thunderstorms. Every evening they arrived north of here or south of here, skirting to the east, or emerging and dissolving nearby in the west. Right here, nothing but humidity.
Last night the thunderstorms were inevitable. A cold front was coming. The weather maps showed masses of green, yellow, and boiling red storms coming closer and closer. The first waves skipped around here, as usual, but filled the air with growling thunder.
Finally we were overrun.
I stood in my breezeway watching the lightening bolts fly one after another, pink in the distance, gold closer, blue-white here. The thunder never stopped, deep rumbles, bone rattling booms, cracks that felt as if they would separate my mind from my body. The rain drove down in sheets, the sky flashed with blinding lightening, the thunder drummed unrelentingly.
Eventually the explosive storms drove all other thoughts out of my head. The storm consumed me and left me gasping.
Today, the air and garden are being washed clean by gentle rains and blessed coolness.
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2 comments:
You made that storm sound so pretty-- and so needed! I am glad you have coolness. Perhaps you could send your cold front east? Please?
Ah... storms.
I adore them. They do, indeed, engulf one in their awesome power.
Beautiful.
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