I really need a thunderstorm right now

Normally the only person who might say this phrase goes by the name of Dr. Frankenstein. However, I've been wanting a good thunderstorm for the last couple of days. Luckily the weather obliged us this evening. It couldn't have happened at a better time. It didn't last more than forty minutes or so, but the thunder rolled off the mountains to our east and the rain fell from the heavens like devils cast out. It was a good storm and much needed too.

I've always enjoyed watching thunderstorms. When I couldn't get a thunderstorm I would go for a hard downpour or even just a simple rain. Many have used rain as imagery of cleansing. To me there is just something about it that is relaxing. I don't even really mind driving thought a rain storm and despite the difficulties and challenges it presents find it exhilarating.

I have found memories of sitting outside on the front porch with my older sister, each of us curled in a blanket reading our respective books as the rain poured down on the other side of the hollyhocks. I also remember coming out of a night class my freshman year of college to a sky as black as pitch and a steady and persistent rain coming down. I put by coat in my backpack, took off my socks and shoes, rolled up my jeans and walked home barefoot in the rain. I didn't dance (although I've sung a few times), but I did enjoy myself, and the hot shower when I got home. This last storm found me in the kitchen alternating between the stove preparing dinner and the screen door smelling deeply of the rain.

For our anniversary last year my wife bought me a print of a photo taken by Tyson Chappell, a professor at the last college I worked at, who is also an accomplished photographer. The photo is titled, "God's Wrath" and hangs in my office. Check it out here. It is a time lapse of a thunderstorm that occurred while we were living in Price, UT. We had good years in Price, but were glad to be closer to family. In addition to the friends we had made we both agreed that we would miss the thunderstorms. I remember turning a movie off for twenty minutes while I watch a lightning storm that struck south of Price. We didn't see many storms because of the geography that surrounded us, but the storms we did see were hard and fast and fierce. They had to be to get over the mountains. Kanga would often sit in a chair by a window and just watch them. Once when a particularly loud clap of thunder shook our cinder-block house she asked, "What was that?" "Thunder, Kanga." "No it's not!" she declared, "It's a dragon! I'm going to get my dragon!" She would have to if she could have gotten the door open.

Below is a poem I wrote just after completing high school that includes some of my feelings on storms. I called it "Stand Standing Still"

The man stood standing in the rain

A newspaper in his hand

And stared across the wet, wet street

Into a strange new land.

He stood there, standing for an hour

Not moving here or there

But standing, simply standing

As rain damped his hair.

A passerby brushed past the man

And apologized the slight

But the man didn't notice the passer-by

In the darkening night.

Don’t ask me why he does stand there

Standing in the rain

Some would say he’s bloody mad

Others, feeling pain.

But stand he does, standing there

And facing a crying sky

Holding his soaking head up high

Wishing he could fly.

The pouring rain does not let up

It’s getting harder still

And people run to open doors

And hope they don’t come ill

And yet he stands, standing there

Without a hat or coat

And many, indoors do say

He’s going to need a boat.

And when the storm does reach its height

He spreads his long arms out

And looks straight up upon the sky

And gives a mighty shout!

“Oh storm of heaven come, I pray

And show me of your power

For I have stood here many a day

And now at last this hour

Do see thy strength, thy majesty

And dare to look you more

In country town, on mountain top

On sea and on the shore

Such power I've never witnessed

And am proud to see it now

I will never forget you, storm of hope

To thee I deepest bow!”

And with that declaration

He did lower his big hands

And without another word

Looked at distant lands

The people inside the buildings

Heard and saw him do

And said the man was on a drug,

His mind, damage done to.

But I think you know, who reads this now

What that strange man had done

He saw a power strong enough

To blow the brilliant sun.

A new thing learned each moment

He stands there, standing still

And greets each act of nature

And bears it none of ill

And maybe, standing still

In one place, standing long

One may hear the exalted chords

Of nature’s holy song.