The air was still as the sky grayed early this evening. Now the wet asphalt of our circle shines under the streetlight, and rumbles of thunder bounce around in the heavens.
When my children were little, I became hyper-alert as storms approached. Where are all the boys? Any bikes left outside? Is it raining in the windows? But now with less to concern me, storms are welcome and peaceful. I think most people enjoy storms, at least the brief ones we get with warmer weather. Maybe it is the majestic power of something greater than ourselves, a touch of suspense, or that distant potential for danger. Maybe it is knowing that the world will be a little cleaner and fresher when it ends. Or is it the regular tapping of soft rain on the roof that makes us want to curl up under the covers. Mother Nature is usually very good to us.