Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Communing With the Storm
I am a storm-lover. Lightening flashing, Thunder crashing, raindrop pelting, Earth shaking storms make my heart pound with excitement and help me to realize how small I really am in the scheme of natural life. I am the eccentric woman on the block that opens her windows (all of them) at the first clap of thunder, and turns off all the lights. A good storm is better than fireworks on the Fourth of July. A storm was predicted yesterday, and as I drove to work in the morning, the radio announcer advised "doing the shopping early" because the storms would be in the afternoon. I silently prayed that they would wait until I got off work at 2:00. All through my workday, I heard distant rumblings; reminders that the storm was coming, and that it was a good one. I would quietly tell the storm to wait until the moment I got off work. "Don't start without me." In the stockroom, I could hear the rain abusing the roof which sent a drip that formed a tiny puddle on the top of a box of shower curtains. "I still have two hours, Storm, wait for me." I whispered. The rumblings continued until 1:45 when they were no longer distant, and I felt the excitement that I am sure those who chase storms for a living must feel. I clocked out at 1:59, grabbed my purse from my locker, unhitched my apron as I speed-walked out of the mall, and entered bliss. The rain was coming down in huge drops and the thunder was loud, constant and overhead. I took my glasses off, slipped them into the pocket of my apron and walked with my head up to Mable the Sable, who was parked a hundred feet or so away from the mall service exit. I took my time unlocking the door as lightening smacked the air around me. One...two...CCCRRAAAAACCKKABOOM! YES! Sitting in the car gave me the added drama of being sheltered in the midst of the raging storm. Safe, but in the midst of it, nonetheless. I watched the water sheet down the windshield and tuned in to the thunder and lightening dancing around me. How beautiful this sound; how loud and courageous and wonderful. I felt grounded and centered and at peace. (Funny how I feel at peace in the center of a storm, while amid peace, I am chaotic. I'm sure God will answer that for me, someday.)
I needed to get to Walmart to refill the shortage of envelopes and flavored creamer at home, and so I headed slowly in that direction, windshield wipers at high speed. I could barely see to get out of the mall parking area and out to the street. In Texas, everything is big, even the rain, and the streets were filled with puddles the size of Lake Erie. Water poured from the raingutters of buildings and snaked its way through the parking lots. Turning in to the Walmart lot, I had to maneuver around a river that surged out of the parking lot onto the street into an ocean as deep as the top of Mable's tires. I waded through it, found a parking spot and waited a moment, enjoying the thrill of the fury. As the rain started to subside, happy with the spots on my clothing and drips coming from my hair, I got out of the car. Other people waited by the door to go to their cars, afraid to get hit by lightening, others struggled with umbrellas in the hope that they would not get wet. Umbrellaless and contented, I strolled past them, into the store as the thunder once again became distant.
