I was sitting at home the other day when a rare thunderstorm surged over Seattle and lightning bolts cracked out of the sky like Zeus really had it in for us. It was wild and wonderful, one of nature’s best light shows, I thought. Until, that is, a bolt hit somewhere close by. There was an incandescent flare as though a million flashbulbs had gone off at once, followed almost instantly by a boom so loud it shook the house. My heart leaped from its moorings into my throat so I could hardly breathe.
“That was close,” said my husband calmly. He believes his main job in the family is to stay calm. That’s because he’s married to a worst-case-scenario person who immediately began to think about how the next bolt might reduce our little house to mere splinters.
After I managed to reinstall my heart in its proper place, I began to think about how fortunate we are to have shelter from storms, but also how removed we are from nature. Our culture both shields us and distances us from Planet Earth. It’s good to realize from time to time how overpowering and wild nature really is – and how dependent we are on its bounty.
Here is a poem for you today:
Stand beside the lightning strike,
feel the ions lift your hair,
hear an eagle’s hunting cry,
know we have not tamed them. No
we never will.