Storm Spell


The firmament divides somewhere overhead. The eastern sky is a cherub’s blue, tonsured in cumulus white. The western sky is a mutinous grey, fallen wings cast out from above. The house sits below the split. The facing windows hang out over the precipice, both in front of and then inside the quickening storm.  


The wind is a dog that shakes the trees, throttling the tops, jerking them back and forth. Across the fields the lightning flares, silent at first but then it kisses the ground. Burnt air flinches back and the music of the universe spills out of the light. The thunder is a work calloused hand that scrapes and rasps across the skin. A drop slaps hard on the windowsill, and then a second, and then a third. Petals fall from the apple trees chasing the storm to the ground. The rain is an airborne river and the small windows of mesh that pattern the screens fill up and hide the garden and the yard.


A door slams shut overhead and the sudden realization that the bedroom windows are open sends us running up the stairs. We hurry from room to room, forcing down the sashes, wiping the windowsills, laying towels down on the wet carpets, grumbling and laughing a little. Laughing not because it was funny, but because the wind was so strong, the lightning was so wild and the gunshot cracks and black rumble that sang accompaniment as it split the air had held us frozen and made us forget that we were safe inside.  The sky flickers with diamond fire. An alto chord tears free to grind along the spine and we shiver within the embrace of the windows and the roof and the walls.


The tulip heads are bent and heavy with the remnants of rain. The wind has died down and the sun has returned to warm the air. The green bite of the garden after the rain comes in through the newly opened windows. The back end of the storm hangs in the eastern sky, a clear line drawn across the horizon. It sends back a parting roll of thunder that fades into the drip, drip, drip of sodden trees.



15 thoughts on “Storm Spell

    That\’s EXACTLY how it happens! Especially the fat "slap, slap, slap" of those first raindrops.
    This was awesome. Again.
    Oh, and by the way? Steve is NOT diabetic. Go figure, huh? His blood sugar levels are better than mine.


  2. Beautiful…I love thunder storms but we don\’t get very many of them.  When we do you better wtch out.  It never is a drizzle…it is always a downpour and it floods the concrete city.


  3. By the way, I\’m Chinese. I want to improve my Enlish,so I read some  passeges. I wish you\’ll not mind I entering into your space…


  4. Beautiful writing as usual, and I can feel the rain drenched fresh air rushing in your "newly opened windows"… lovely!  I so enjoy reading your space!
    I\’ve always loved rain storms, but strangely enough the thunder makes me shudder… unless I\’m by the ocean and then I revel in it.


  5. @Pomegranate the Pirate EMT
    Not diabetic??? Really, I\’m shocked! I can\’t think what possible explanation there would be then for the amputations AND an incision that didn\’t heal from a surgery he had years ago. That\’s just too strange.
    If you can hear it then my work is done, lol =)
    Hopefully those floods aren\’t life threatening. I must admit that though I enjoy the thunderstorm show there\’s always a little bit of me that is afraid…like an inherited superstition or repressed genetic memory of a time when we were at the mercy of the skies and the storms.
    Thank you for stopping by. You are welcome to visit any time. =)
    If adrenaline counts as energy I\’m there as well, lol! ;P
    I understand the shudder thing but I would think that thunder at the ocean would be scarier as it is associated with the greater danger of a lightning strike. Mmmmm the smell of rain drench yard…it\’s the best 🙂


  6. Pit pat right down on Toad\’s head while he is trying to get something done . The only thing that had to work on my old van was the wipers because she only had to run there and back and drive around when it was raining….


  7. @Dave
    Right back at ya\’
    Poor Toad…but as my mother used to say and probably still would if she had the chance to hear anyone complain… You\’re not made of sugar, you won\’t melt. ;P
    Where do you live …the last ring of hell? It\’s only the end of May for goodness sake. The green is so raw here it could make your eyes bleed if you weren\’t careful. You better get out there and start watering!


  8. You know, I\’ve often wondered why I\’m not more scared when at the beach in a thunderstorm… I\’m just weird I guess.

    Somehow, the majesty of it all while at the beach… the waves crashing to shore, the wind whipping my hair every which way… I don\’t just stand out there in the open… my favorite beach has swings with little roofs on top that I sit in and watch… maybe because I can see so far over the water, the sky opened up to me as far as I dare to look… that\’s GOD… and I know he\’d never hurt me.


  9. i love a good thunderstorm but they scare the hell out of me when accompanied by high winds.  last year had one that tore our fence apart.  seeing boards fly and bear whining in fear was enough for me.. cat under each arm, him behind me, we headed underground to hide under the basement stairs. 
    i dont think i moved a muscle for an hour.  LOL. 


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