This is another story written the first Spring in our homestead.
Experiencing my first thunderstorm, by myself, in my new home, I
discovered a difference in the depth and in the sound of the storm
out here in the country compared to the storms experienced in the
I was drinking my morning tea [an India spice tea with clove,
cinnamon and a touch of black pepper mingling with the humid moist
air], while listening to the thunderstorm rattle our windows. The
rain is a soft yet steady cascade against the leaves of the trees.
There is the occasional swooshing of water from a car going by in the
street. There is a low hum, much like the sound made when your finger
is rubbed around the rim of a crystal glass [but a deeper tone], from
our wind chimes hanging within one of our big trees. You can barely
notice the flicker of lightening while the thunder resounds nearby
but still out on the edge not quite on top of the house. The rumbling
continues across the sky with a deep low growl. It gives just enough
reverberation to shake the thin glass of my window panes on the first
floor. The glass is the older poured or formed glass that is slightly
distorted as you look out through them.
The smell of damp old limestone brings a subtle musty, dusty
tickling to my nose. Then there is the mild fragrance of the spring
blooms [cherry blossoms, I believe] weaving in and out of the
freshness of the breeze stirring the bushes and trees. The ground [or
dirt if you will] not to be left out, makes its presence known by
enhancing the air with a wet earthy bouquet. Birds are adding to the
exciting yet quietness of the storm with whistling and warbling [some
not so familiar bird varieties]. The grass is a lush green and the
poppies are a beautiful burst of bright orange-red against the
density of green that surrounds the front of the home.
There is a groundhog that lives in one of the old small structures
off to the side of the house; its brownish coat was noticed making a
hasty retreat toward its home. Even the worms that are washed out of
the ground are larger and harder to avoid as you walk outside just
after the rain [not like the skinny little ones found washed out onto
the sidewalk or parking lot].
There is a comforting appeal in listening to and in experiencing a
storm. I have always enjoyed listening to thunderstorms. I never
realized how much the noise of the 'city' overshadowed the peaceful
concert of God’s earth. The lightening was noticed [especially at
night] and the thunder was never ignored! The rain could be drowned
out by the sounds of cars, people, and hidden amongst the closeness
of buildings. And being distracted by other things, you might not
really take the time to stop and listen to God's fantastic tune.
Just thought I would share the wonder of the storm with you.