Thunder crashes through my dreams like a sledge-hammer, startling me into wakefulness. It growls like a caged-in lion pacing, it bangs furiously and then grumbles away, sometimes near, sometimes far. The lightning strikes and I start counting; one thousand, two thousand… the gods come tumbling out of their beds above my head shattering the stillness of the air, deafening me, wakening the entire neighbourhood.
Lightning flickers around the edge of the town, circling dangerously close, lighting up roofs and chimneys then forking down to the earth. So bright I can see it with my eyes closed. Red, yellow on the insides of my eye-lids. Afraid to open them in case the retina is damaged by the flash. So vivid that night becomes day.
Then the rain starts; fat, heavy drops falling slowly, hesitantly onto the still warm tarmac and dry tiles. The hissing begins; raindrops steadily increasing in pace, straight as stair-rods, rapidly filling the gutters, turning the road into a river, gurgling down the fall-pipes and creating fog above the river. The smell of rain in the thick air. It stops. It starts. It stops.
Everything is still. The air is so heavy. Listening, holding its breath. In case the fury returns.
Lisa of the blog NorthWest Frame of Mind has decided to run a different project over the next 24 weeks. To try to show what is happening in different parts of the world (if you all join in) at a particular time of day. If you would like to participate you have until next Saturday midnight to post a photo or write about what is happening in your part of the world. This week is between 02:00 – 03:00. I hope you’ll join in! See links for more details.
(Photo source: Mark Kidsley
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