Thunderstorms

I've always loved rain. To me, it's peaceful, comforting, and cozy. I tend to be happier when it's raining or gloomy outside; the sun gets old to me. So, with that in mind, I now have a great love for thunderstorms. When shared, that is.

I scare easily, this is of no surpirse to anyone who knows me. But given the right situation, I can love something that is so powerful, yet still peaceful. Ever since my senior year in high school, I've learned to love thunderstorms. The huge threat, bearing clouds and then eventual downpour that follows with th rumbling and grumbling thunder and lightening is both exciting and beautiful.

There's something about watching this massive wave of energy move through your space, to be able to both dance in it and hide from it, and know that it's movement is bringing rejuvination to the land around you. If nothing else, it smells so wonderful.

So yesterday when I was in Sacramento visiting with my Aunt for Thanksgiving, and we got a thunderstorm, I immediately ran to the window, beaming. i felt like a kid for a few seconds, bouncing and bubbling. I then texted one of my best friends, Sarah, to tell her of my excitement. She and I got to dance in my only summer thunderstorm just hours before my flight would take me back to California back in August. It's moments like that that I know life is okay. Peaceful and joyful and hopeful as each drop splatters on my face.

Go ahead and mess up my hair, rain.
Go ahead and shake my feet, thunder.

Just as long as you wash me clean and fresh