The Lore of Thunderstorms

I enjoy thunderstorms. I’m not exactly thrilled when they knock out my power, but I enjoy watching them roll in across the sky. I was afraid of thunderstorms when I was a child. My parents would comfort me during them by saying the thunder and lightning were spirits bowling up in the clouds. That seemed reasonable to me and it made listening to storms more fun as I waited for the sounds of strikes and gutter balls.  Nowadays I like to imagine my father bowling up among the clouds and the loudest booms resemble the jaw-dropping force of his strikes. I tell my daughters the bowling analogy and Jordan has a way of adding on to that by talking about the rain being the leaking water bottles of the athletes. I prefer that idea over the rain being their sweat…

I am fascinated by the sight of lightning flashing among dark clouds in the distance. Watching the visible line of hard rain approach has mesmerized me to the point of forgetting I need to go inside before I become drenched. I have even washed my hair in an overflowing downspout. It wasn’t as alluring as those shampoo commercials but it was very refreshing!

I have been told that I am less than sane to go running out into the openness of my back yard to watch a thunderstorm approach. But there is something so empowering and energizing about the force of wind and billowing darkness of the clouds. Feeling the earth tremble beneath my bare feet as thunder rolls is a vivid reminder of the unbridled strength of Mother Nature.

Being awakened from a peaceful slumber by the loud booming of thunderstorms makes my heart race but I’m not afraid of it any longer. I open my curtains to watch the lightning flash or remain laying in bed as the light strobes through the fabric and illuminates my room. Mother Nature is unpredictable and uncontrollable and she and I don’t always see eye to eye. But I will give her credit where credit is due and continue to appreciate the humbling strength and beauty of thunderstorms.

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Frozen Moments, Flooding Memories

ice needles stream flood

It appears that it’s going to be one of those Springs where Mother Nature has intensely fluctuating mood swings. Warm one day, cold the next. Rain, snow, sun, wind and the other day, a mini ice storm. It’s hard to know how to dress and what coat to grab when even the weather apps I use can’t seem to keep up from moment to moment. The forecasters keep optimistically forecasting warm sun and when it doesn’t come I wonder if they fear for their lives.

This random and erratic spring weather coalesced into something rather inspiring to me during the thankfully short-lived ice storm. As I was driving home I passed by several streams that were overflowing from all the rain. These same streams were surrounded by bare-branched trees that were coated with frozen droplets or rain. All the buds on the trees looked frozen in time while the water continued to flow rapidly past them and it created a stunning contrast in my mind.

I have experienced moments that feel frozen in time. Some of these moments are amazingly wonderful and others are heartbreakingly painful. When those moments were

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