Category: Life Page 5 of 7

There’s fog everywhere. The sky is a luminous shade of white which seeps down on over the tops of the trees. Everything is soaked except for areas with a roof over them. From my porch I look out into the forest clearing next door and it looks like jungle. The air is thick, heavy, humid and warm enough to be jacketless but not unbearably hot. I hear the sounds of isolated birds, both nearby and farther away, making their morning calls.

My former self would once have whined, “It’s so humid! My hair will frizz!” But I let my hair go native long ago so it doesn’t matter now. I go inside. Time to make breakfast.

A loud crash awakens me. I open my eyes to see a brilliant, white sky behind the stark black silhouette of the trees outside our house. The sound of heavy rain gurgles in the gutter and rumbles down the drain spouts. I don’t hear it patter on the roof – our roof is well insulated. I should know. I helped put in that insulation. Another bright flash, quickly followed by a loud rumble of thunder.

I have to pee so I get up out of bed. But it’s not urgent so I walk through the dark room and sit on the sofa next to the living room windows, fascinated by the ever increasing frequency of the flashes. I see no jagged lightning bolts even though that’s what I’m looking and waiting for – only sudden and bright flashes as the white sky pulses beyond the tree line. I count the seconds between the flash of light and the thunder clap. I remember learning as a child that that was how you could tell how far away the storm is. While I no longer remember how the seconds translate to miles I know the storm is very close – each flash followed almost immediately by a very loud crash, sounding almost overhead. Rip van Winkle is playing nine-pins in my backyard.

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