A thunderstorm is sounding off, moving toward us from the south. When I look at it on the weather radar, it is a quiet green and orange brushstroke. When I look out the window, the leaves are unmoving. When the storm arrives, color and sound and movement will join, and I can watch in a dry cool dehumidified room or I can walk outside to watch from a moister closer still somewhat safe distance.
I have been outside and not safe in thunderstorms. Once riding through the Goethe Forest on a 490cc single cylinder plastic motorcycle. Another time squatting on an oyster bar with the tide incoming and my kayak rocking beside me. I felt lucky, unscared, happy to be alive, witnessing a power that humans cannot control, surviving it. I would like to remember to recall that feeling when lesser forces throw me off balance, scare me, make me feel unsafe and fortune-tossed. Every storm that comes is a force I cannot control.
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