We had a storm tonight. The lightning flashing and the lights flickering kind of storm. Actually, it was the kind of storm that you would typically see roll over the horizon during the summer, when all the windows are open and you can actually feel the change in barometric pressure. It’s exciting.
As long as you’re inside. Or at least, under cover. When I was younger, I used to watch storms come in from the porch of my grandparents’ house. The awning above provided just enough protection to see and hear the storm instead of feeling it. (But I can remember standing in some puddles afterward, which was the perfect amount of wet for me.)
I found that I missed thunder tonight. Actually, I always miss it around this time of year because, right about now, summer feels like the furthest thing. And for me, thunder is one of those rare anchors for the seasons.
But I also realized that I missed the feeling thunder gives me. Again, when I’m safe inside.
Because when you’re cozy and sound inside of a dwelling when thunder is booming, it really makes you appreciate what you have, in a way that you don’t on a perfectly sunny day. (Or maybe it just makes you happy that you’re not out in that mess).
For me, it makes me hunker down a little further and feel a little bit more relaxed about what’s going on around me. Like maybe it’s not that bad, because I’m not out there. Everything is okay as long as I’m not out in that storm, being tossed by wind and drummed by thunder.
And when it’s all over, I can still play in the puddles. (As long as I make sure that the lightning has stopped.)
In the end, thunder just awakes some primal instinct in us that makes us grateful for the shelter that we have. But if you find yourself stuck out in it, at least the ducks think you’re lucky. I guess there’s always a brighter side to a lightning strike.