Thunder and Lightning - Oh Yeah!

As a small child I would never have guessed that one day I would enthusiastically welcome the chaos of a powerful thunderstorm.  The prairies offered regular summer thunderstorms that shook the foundations of our house.  Bolts of lightning flashed through the windows and I often imagined being struck by one through the panes of glass.  But alas, I have moved away from the prairies and thunderstorms are now a rare event.

One of my earliest memories is of  being put to bed one afternoon in an upstairs spare room.  Although my memory of this particular room is unclear, I remember it being sparse, big and scary.  My impression was that I had done something to deserve being there, but I'm not sure.  Thunder rumbled intermittently outside the walls of the bedroom.  My mother came in and told me (in her native Dutch tongue) that God was 'bose' - angry.  I wondered if his anger was directed at me.

As young children, my sister and I were often awakened at night by great peals of thunder as they enveloped the house, reverberating beneath it.  The obscure clothes cabinet became blindingly present in unpredictable flashes, as walls vibrated with every new round that made us crawl deeper under the covers.  If the interval between lightning strikes and thunder was almost non-existant, Mom and Dad would come to sit with us or get us up in anticipation of a strike which thankfully, never occurred.

A little girl's wide-eyed fear eventually grew into wide-eyed awe.

Today I watch as a rare storm rages outside my window.  I am awe-struck by the intensity of lightning fingers as they streak a darkening sky and resounding cracks snapping angrily as if offended at not being first.  I turn off my music to catch more distant rumblings.  An expectant thrill moves through my body as I stop to pay attention.  I am not disappointed.  How I love a good, rousing thunderstorm!