The thunder was continuous; silence banished, almost hard to recall. It was as if a hundred aspiring thunder gods were competing for ascendancy, hurling their most terrible winds at each other from every corner of the sky.
Lightning, too, was not a matter of a flash here or a bolt there; rather an aurora-like shimmer of varying intensities, the brightest spots hurtling around the horizon but no place ever dim.
The clouds were a photographer’s soft-box for the lightning, so that when a backyard tree became an x-ray of a tree, it was limned against pure, bright white, intense and sky-filling, throwing each wind-whipped leaf into the sharpest imaginable relief.
There was rain as well, but hard and insistent as it was, it was pitiful against the majesty and violence of the noise and brilliance.
A good night to sit up, neglect sleep, and marvel.
— Frenulum
I should mention, in retrospect: 100,000 people without power, 100 homes destroyed, 80 mph winds. What is beautiful from one point of view is devastation from another. I'm fortunate I got to enjoy the intensity, immensity, invincibility without personal cost.
ReplyDeleteMr F,
ReplyDeleteI agree that the summer thunderstorm is majestic. In fact, my girl receives a spanking every stormy night. The wind rushing through the room and the smell of the rain outside really enhance the atmosphere, and negate the need to close the windows ;)
I imagine she keeps a very close eye on the weather maps :o)
DeleteThanks for writing!