thunder

what innate voice stirs within us when we hear the approach of a thunderstorm? the first rolling peals of thunder prick up my ears, and i cannot settle until i know from which direction the storm is coming, how deep the clouds look, and how much time i have to prepare. once all the facts are known, it’s a matter of waiting for the onslaught.  the gentle rains have already started, dripping lazily through the beams of the front porch, streaming more steadily in the back, but since i took a seat to pen this, the thunder’s rattles have increased in intensity. something in me goes quiet when i hear thunder, a sort of homecoming anticipation. thunderstorms calm me; the chaos outside gives mine a little reprieve. now the pinging of rain on metal begins, the sign of a storm picking up. leaves on the trees bounce this way and that, pummeled from above. the thunder has quieted for a moment, grumbling loudly only so often. the storms of florida are such a tease some days; just when i settle in for a good storm, it blows into the neighbor’s yard and leaves mine untouched.