Last night might have been one of the most fantastic thunderstorms I’ve ever been lucky enough to witness. The rain flooded the road out, not to mention the backyard. The thunder shook the house, I could feel it in my bed, rattling through my chest.
All of the stories I used to hear make so much more sense. Thunder is the footsteps of giants, the wings of a thunderbird, great rock creatures awakening from slumber.
The storm lasted all night, and into the afternoon. I got to spend my morning in my bed, watching the clouds collide outside my window.
I remember a book I used to read as a small child, about a young girl who was afraid of thunderstorms, and so to get over her fear she gathered ingredients and baked a cake, counting how far off the storm was with every strike of lightening.
I had never baked a cake in a thunderstorm before. (I must admit I was actually a bit afraid the thunder would make it fall…)(I really needn’t have worried. Cakes are always sturdier than I think they are.)
I love the rain.