Nothing brings about feelings of nostalgia quite like a thunderstorm. I love when the night is filled with bright bursts of lightening and great cracks of thunder. I love the sound of the rain hitting the roof. Memories of my childhood surround and cocoon me; like a warm, familiar, blanket. Storms have always been a fascination of mine. Even at a young age, I loved to walk around the farm in the rain and often I would refuse to come in the house until after the rain had subsided.
My older sister was quite the opposite. She hated the rain and would shriek in terror when a powerful burst of thunder shook our home. I’m not sure why or how we turned out so very different, in our affection or distaste toward storms. I don’t think I could ever get tired of storms. They are both terrifying and wonderful to me. I love the way the sky turns a deep, dark gray. I love the way the rain feels against my skin and how lightening looks absolutely breathtaking flashing across the sky.
Storms seem to wash away all feelings of loneliness or inadequacy and instead leaves a quiet calm within me. When I’m a Mother, I hope to teach my children how nothing can chase away sadness or anger quite like a storm. I’ll teach them how rain can wash away any sorrow and how thunder can chase away any rage. For now though, I will sit here and reminisce, sipping my coffee and appreciate how incredibly awe – inspiring storms really are.