“Knock at my pane with your finger-tips, O rain.”
Around 2:20, something loud woke me up. I thought, at first, it was one of the dogs, but when it happened again, I heard the thunder and the rain. The rain was torrential. The thunder came in rolls. Both dogs looked up but then went back to sleep. This morning the thunder is still loud, constant. The rain is heavy. We could get as much as 2 to 4 inches. The coast has a flood watch. The only saving grace is the warmth, 64°. I chose not to go out to get my newspaper. I’d rather stay dry and warm. The dogs went out then hurried back inside. They are sleeping on the couch. Luckily, neither one is bothered by thunder.
The most amazing storms were in Ghana at the start of the rainy season. Everything was dry from months of no rain. The fields were brown with the remains of last season’s crops. The roads were dust. The water was often turned off so I kept filled buckets in my shower so I could take a bucket bath each night. I became an expert bucket bath taken. The best part was the bucket water was warmer than the cold water from the shower. My students would take their baths after their morning chores and before their classes. I could hear the sounds of the buckets being filled. I’ll never forget the lightning storm, the like of which I hadn’t seen before and haven’t seen since. It was during one of the first storms of the season. The rain water was so constant and heavy it had made rivulets in the dust. The ground was too dry to absorb the water. All of a sudden a bold of lightning hit the ground close to my house. The lightning was jagged. It reminded me of drawings of lightning I used to make when I was a kid. I was breathless, in awe.
I have little ambition today. I think I’ll listen to the storm, drink coffee and read the day away. The thunder continues, a rolling thunder, less ominous. I haven’t seen any lightning. The wind blows intermittently. It is a mighty storm.
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