We were awakened early this morning by roaring, crackling thunder and bright, exuberant flashes of lightning. I'm not sure I remember it so wild here this time of year. Fall is usually mild. We even got some rain. We got up to watch and savor the power of nature. I felt small, and touched primeval terror.
We rarely get thunder and lightning here, but there was quite a lightning show of entertainment the evening of the day my mother died. We all sat in the living room in the dark, lit only by candlelight, and watched the show. It was a gift.
This feels a little different since there is the threat now of dry lightning starting fires. It seems to be another by-product of global warming. My husband turned on the TV to get the latest meteorological report and I think we both realized how clearly TV cannot compare to being with what is happening outside.
Sometimes I sit and just watch the fog and the various ways it comes over the hill. it is like a creature, sometimes stalking, other times, lilting. Often, it looks like it is moving and it is, but it is also dissipating at the same time, so there is movement and stillness. It doesn't advance. Other times it comes in with a roar. Today there is fog and clouds, and the day is so enchanting that I may spend a great deal of time today looking at it and being in it and talking to my plants and the microorganisms in the soil. It feels like that kind of day.
I see some drops of rain. We treasure each drop of rain this time of year. What a gift is this day, this moment, each moment, each day.