Charise slipped from beneath the boughs of the pine tree that had served as shelter during the night. She had been fortunate to find a tree ancient enough to offer protection from the storms that had passed through in succession. Stepping out to a rocky outcropping she sucked in the fresh morning air. The pastel colored houses in the valley below were framed by the cobalt blue of a rain-cleansed sky. At the far end of the valley towering cumulus clouds drifted lazily off into the distance.
Filled with a carefree happiness, Charise dared to break the cardinal rule. Carefully unfurling her wings, she leaped from the ridge into flight.
Thursday, August 15, 2013
Monday, August 12, 2013
Summer Sunday
The summer Sunday was calm with a capital C. Not even the ocean could summon the energy to send waves breaking onto the shore, choosing instead to kiss the sand with subtle ripples.
Gulls either stood with eyes narrowed to sleepy slits, or drifted lazily overhead on thermals. Their normally raucous calls were absent.
Sun and clouds did half-hearted battle, neither caring which won the day, and in the end settling on an afternoon of diffused light.
As for me, with lethargy so predominant what was there to do but stare vacantly at the distant meeting of ocean and sky and give my thoughts free rein to travel where they would.
Gulls either stood with eyes narrowed to sleepy slits, or drifted lazily overhead on thermals. Their normally raucous calls were absent.
Sun and clouds did half-hearted battle, neither caring which won the day, and in the end settling on an afternoon of diffused light.
As for me, with lethargy so predominant what was there to do but stare vacantly at the distant meeting of ocean and sky and give my thoughts free rein to travel where they would.
Friday, August 9, 2013
Thrill of the Storm
It was a night that had me wishing I my house had one of those deep, wrap-around porches.
Overhead, the sky turned progressively more ominous as layers of charcoal gray clouds converged from three different directions. Jagged lines of silver-white lightning jumped from cloud to cloud, first in the back of the house, then moving to the front. Soon blinding lances of lightning were striking the ground on all sides and thunder rolled continuously.
Oh, to have had a porch to provide shelter that I might follow the progression of the storm and catch evbery bit of the pyrotechnics.
The fury of the storm took me back to days of my youth when my mother would call my sister and I inside at the first rumble of thunder. My father would move through the house unplugging all things electric while my mother kept us kids quarantined on the couch with our feet tucked beneath out butts.
Sitting on the coarse cushions, watching lightning strobe through the windows I would hear the back door open and close... my father going out on the carport to watch nature's fury.
As I got older I dared to challenge being relegated to the couch and earned the right to join my father outdoors. Oh, the adrenaline rush that came with the sizzle of a lightning bolt passing closely by; the momentary jolt of surprise tinged with fear when a deafening crack filled the air; the ecstasy of deep rumbles of thunder passing in waves. I took offense at the rain that kept me trapped in the carport. I wanted to run through neighboring yards, chasing the lightning bolts as they searched for ground, wanted to shout out challenges as I raced the wind.
Overhead, the sky turned progressively more ominous as layers of charcoal gray clouds converged from three different directions. Jagged lines of silver-white lightning jumped from cloud to cloud, first in the back of the house, then moving to the front. Soon blinding lances of lightning were striking the ground on all sides and thunder rolled continuously.
Oh, to have had a porch to provide shelter that I might follow the progression of the storm and catch evbery bit of the pyrotechnics.
The fury of the storm took me back to days of my youth when my mother would call my sister and I inside at the first rumble of thunder. My father would move through the house unplugging all things electric while my mother kept us kids quarantined on the couch with our feet tucked beneath out butts.
Sitting on the coarse cushions, watching lightning strobe through the windows I would hear the back door open and close... my father going out on the carport to watch nature's fury.
As I got older I dared to challenge being relegated to the couch and earned the right to join my father outdoors. Oh, the adrenaline rush that came with the sizzle of a lightning bolt passing closely by; the momentary jolt of surprise tinged with fear when a deafening crack filled the air; the ecstasy of deep rumbles of thunder passing in waves. I took offense at the rain that kept me trapped in the carport. I wanted to run through neighboring yards, chasing the lightning bolts as they searched for ground, wanted to shout out challenges as I raced the wind.
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