Far from the path of a hurricane
A summer storm in Michigan.
I don’t know about you, but I love to watch a summer storm roll in.
I find comforting the rumble of distant thunder, the stirring of leaves, as they turn silver in the rising wind, the flight of birds, finding shelter.
On a summer evening, as a buttery sun melts into the sky, with the promise of rain on the horizon. . . I wait.
Standing barefoot on a manicured lawn, under the eaves of a brick house
in the burbs, under cover of gathering clouds, somehow I feel wild and free.
One with the planet. Energized. Ready for the rain.