Thunderstorm

A lot of rain here the past few weeks, although mostly showers and “Euclidean rain”  (that phrase from Scott Bakker’s evocative post The Lesser Sound and Fury).  Here the trees are close in and it can be difficult to really appreciate a good storm.

So Scott’s piece reminded me of when we lived on the other side of the valley –  in a former creamery on top of a hill above a bend in the Susquehanna River.  Thunderstorms would come down the valley from the west. Sitting in Adirondack chairs in the front lawn, 800 feet above the valley , we would watch each storm come toward us.  The blur of rain and hail falling from the thunderhead’s floor, sometimes, for a while below where we sat, the visibility of the full height of the cumulonimbus cloud, the advancing thunder, the ionized air, terrified and thrilled us until, in  a panic, we would run into the building, itself barely more than a ruin, that seemed in those moments, a place of safety.

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