It makes me feel as if I'm really here, in time, in this time. And, just now, oddly also as if no other humans exist. Just me and the storm.
Oooh, there was a good ripping crack of rippling crash & boom in the sky.
Whatever-all this house is good for and not so good for, in it I do sometimes feel quite in touch with outside. More than you might think I would, with no big picture windows or vistas or whole rooms of streaming light. 'Course it's at night that I'm especially fond of feeling something of the out there. A touch of overnight camping, maybe.
I'm not near ready for my little pending get-away. There's not a whole lot of getting ready to do, however, fortunately. I'm gonna try to make it all about taking it easy.
Hey, it's crackling pretty fierce now. And the rain pours and pours. But I do believe it's the thunder and lightning that draw me extra much. They're breaking out---bursting forth to blurt out something, loudly, in the middle of the tumult. It's what makes it a storm, and not just a (glorious) drenching, sopping waterfall from the air. It's telling it like it is. It's the edge of the wave overcoming us most unsubtlely, and declaring itself as it goes.
Lord love a duck, Lisa loves a thunderstorm.