Sometimes, when all my people are where they should be, and my windows are closed, and my car is tucked safely in a garage, and I am not sitting anxiously at an airport gate, I like to watch a summer storm roll in..
I especially like to see it gather strength as it travels over water with an admirable confidence. I enjoy the booming clap that precedes a lightning show and I like to watch those jagged slashes mark the sky.
I often grab a front row seat to all that ferocity and I sit on my front porch as long as I can, watching the wind whip the trees. I like the smell of rain and the fresh anticipation it offers.
I appreciate the life lessons summer storms offer, the way they teach us our place in this universe. Some track obediently along expected fronts, while others whip up or die down at will. We don’t control them. They command our respect.
We humans can get arrogant sometimes because we’re capable of astonishing things. I tip my hat to human innovation every time I Google a phrase, flip a switch, read a beautiful poem, taste a delicious dish, listen to a gorgeous song, view a compelling piece of art.
But, if we want to understand our actual place in this old world, I think it helps to watch a summer storm march boldly across a summer sky.