She awoke with a start, listening to the rustling of the wind outside her window, the steady drum of rain on the roof, the rumble of distant thunder. Although she could not see them, she knew that the ominous black clouds were moving closer. Smiling, she leaned back, for she loved storms such as these. Turned onto her side, she was content to just listen to the steady rhythm of the raindrops. Her bedroom was bathed in bright flashes of light, and the roil of thunder soon grew louder. Nestled deep into her sheets, her eyelids began to droop complacently until she fell back into slumber.
the rain, carlotta cisternas
From the time I was a toddler, thunderstorms have been one of my favorite things. They were a frequent occurrence in south east Texas. When the humidity clung like a wet cloth, when it pressed down until it was nearly unbearable, the skies opened up and freshened up the earth. With the lightening flashing, the thunder rolling, and the rain steadily drumming, I've always found thunderstorms so very cozy.
Unfortunately, living in the plains of Oklahoma translates into having very little of my beloved storms. Instead, the air is dry and the wind is ever blowing.
Upon watching the clouds steadily darken and hearing the distant rumbling of thunder, I knew that it would be the perfect way to herald in a perfect spring break. Curled up in a cushy chair at the library, magazine in hand, I waited in eager anticipation for the rain to arrive. After discovering that we were under a tornado warning – another favorite, as long as we're not in direct danger – we picked MeMe up from ballet.
The rain began falling, a slow, methodical drizzle at first, which gradually increased in intensity until it came down in sheets. Not long afterwards, the tornado sirens began to wail. Snatching my camera and a book, we all headed down to the basement. With Lilly, who was frightened half to death, nestled next to me, we read books and listened to the cacophony of thunder, lightning, and the frenzied beat of fat raindrops.
Soon the storm lulled. Armed only with my camera while a soft drizzle was still falling, I entered the magical, vibrant, dripping wet world. The water droplets sparkled and shimmered like prisms in the sunlight. It seemed that everything was greener, the colors more saturated, after sucking up the much needed water.
Between spinning around in the wet grass with my arms wide open, the gentle mist on my face, I photographed and photographed some more. I was in heaven.
These April showers? I'll keep them, please.
Do you like thunderstorms?