measi's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- the thunder rolls... While I like Garth Brooks... no, we're not going to start singing about a man sleeping around behind his wife's back right now. Although I highly recommend the song (with the mysterious third verse, if you can find a copy). Today was the first true summer thunderstorm in Boston. The drenching rain was a welcome change from the near-90 heat and humidity we've been dealing with all week. As my friend Tan said last night, "the air needed a good cleaning." And it got it.. although it's still raining lightly, the temperatures are comfortable, and the air blowing through my box fan in the window is streaming fresh and cool. I was so happy to hear that thunder coming in, rumbling in the middle of blue-grey clouds, that as soon as the downpour started, I ran downstairs and out into the middle of my street to just soak up as much of the rain as I could. Thunderstorms rekindle my soul. They have since I was a little girl. There's nothing quite like a thunderstorm on the praries of the American west. You can see them coming, even when they're hours away... the black clouds looking more and more ominous as they get closer, and the height of the thundercloud gets higher and higher (something that really can never be appreciated in the overcrowed Eastern seabord... thunderclouds get so gigantic that just looking at that flat wall of blackness is awe-inspiring). The winds whip up, and a torrent of rain, and sometimes hail, crashes down for up to about 15-20 minutes, cooling the earth after another day of relentless heat. And then as fast as the storm came in, it disappears... and the wind dies down completely, leaving a sunshine-filled, showered, ozone-smelling expanse of land that has been cleansed of the heated grime of the day. I miss those near-daily occurrences. I truly do. During the summer, the 5 p.m. thunderstorm becomes a comfortable standard of the day, reaffirming the endless cycle of Nature. Perhaps those thunderstorms and the cycle of Nature is what drew me to my Pagan faith in the first place. I'm not sure. I know that thunderstorms were my first appreciation of the power of Nature. Thunderstorms are those reminders of how Nature is not a black and white world. Nature is a world where everything is in shades of grey, and everything has its purpose. Thunderstorms, while destructive at times, are also necessary to keep life thriving. Their lightning bolts create ozone. The water drenches the parched earth and cools it, preventing plants and animals from overheating. And they remind human beings that Nature will do what she wants, regardless of the constraints that technology tries to put on Her. --Mel. 10:10 p.m. - 17 June 2001 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||