I heard about possible storms, but really, one hears these warnings all the time. I tend not to pay so much attention. Then I looked out the north windows and saw the purple-black sky. We seldom see such a sky down here, such mass of heaviness and bearing down on us like a huge iron freight train.
But I’ve seen that sky many times when living in Oklahoma and know what it means. I’m paying attention now, and I call grandson from his computer to look at the sky. To pay attention to the majesty of nature.
Then I tell him: “Get water for the cats. Get them in the garage. I’m taking a feed block to the hens.”
We scurry, animals cared for, cushions off the porch chairs. Then we watch it all come, the rumbling first for quite some time, followed by pattering of rain. With a suddenness, the heavens open up a deluge that pounds on the tin roof, so hard at one point that I’m sure it has broken through and have to open the attic space door to check. Thankfully, it is just a lot of noise. Lightning so close and loud causes me to jump and scream.
Then I go to open the kitchen door and I stand there with pure delight, feeling the cool and powerful wind, the refreshing of dampness. I just let the wet come in—no mother to scold me. (And a reminder not to scold the grands when they do similar experiencing.) For an instant in my reveling I forget the pan I burnt on the stove, the bills that need paying, the ever-present exhaustion of day to day struggles with time, dirt, and money, and just feel the power and glory of the storm.
Gradually everything softens. The wind and rain settle down, the rumbling fades into the distance. And we are safe. I give thanks. We have experienced the refreshing of the storm, and none of what could have been disaster. Very grateful indeed. It’s rather like eating cake and not gaining any weight.
And I carry with me those few seconds when I stood feeling the storm, marveling at it, soaking up it’s invigorating energy. I hope I can remember and call on this energy when I need it in the future.
I am suddenly reminded of wisdom shared by writer and artist Julia Cameron—
“The quality of life is in proportion, always, to the capacity for delight. The capacity for delight is the gift of paying attention.” ~ Julia Cameron, in The Artist’s Way.
A reminder: Paying attention is life-giving.
God bless your days, dear hearts,