The Storm

     Ever since I can remember I have both loved and feared thunderstorms. I still believe there is something raw and fierce about electricity being forced from the sky accompanied by an ear popping "BOOM!" It makes me jump in my seat and peaks my interest all at the same time. Last night we had another doozie of a storm here in my area and I spent most of the night half awake wondering if there was something I should get up and do to prepare just in case it turned into a bad one. As I sat up in bed watching the rain and wind wrestling in the darkness I thought about the first big storm I had experienced.


  When I was a child living in Florida I used to track storms. The local grocery store chain in my town had "Hurricane Tracking Maps," you could pick them up right next to the weekly sale adds during hurricane season. "How convenient," I thought. When I watched the evening news the weather man would tell me the coordinates of the most recent storm and would match up the two latitude and longitude lines until they intersected and I would mark it with a little red dot. I would then connect the little red dot to the one I had marked the day before and slowly after a few days you could see the pattern of where the storm had been. On the margins of the page I would take note of the wind speed and even though my Mathematical skills were lacking I would figure out the anticipated arrival date/time of the above-mentioned storm.


  I remember the first storm that I tracked. It was a pretty big thunderstorm with treacherous winds, it wasn't a hurricane, but for an 11 year old who hadn't grown up in Florida it was pretty scary. My family sat with me on the floor of our main hallway. I had wanted to be prepared in case this turned into a major emergency. So I packed a bag complete with a flashlight, band-aids, fruit roll ups, and even a pack of Ramen Noodle soup (just in case). My doll Julia sat patiently on my lap held tightly in place with my left arm while my right hand scribbled notes on my tracking map. "This ones gonna be big," I thought. In the distance I could see our front window and through it the long arms of our Sycamore tree waved wildly in the rain. I remember thinking, "If the storm doesn't get us that massive tree is going to fall and kill us all." It didn't.


  When the storm finally cleared and everyone vacated the hallway there was a sense of relief, but also a trace of disappointment. I had wanted to be a part of something exciting, and the storm had fizzled out right under my nose. I guess I had prepared for something out of the movie, "Twister" and since there had been no flying cows (or gators in this scenario) I thought the storm had been a dud. When the skies brightened and the sun shone through the clouds I went out into our front yard and much to my surprise, the yard was littered with tree leaves, palm fronds, and the neighbor's garbage cans. "This had been big!" I rushed around excitedly gathering my neighborhood friends and we all exchanged stories about how we had experienced the storm. It was exhilarating!
  
  Looking back on that first storm I can see how it shaped my views on what is now my life. You can spend hours, days, and years preparing for the storm but when it hits all you can do is sit back and wait until it passes. Even still, the best part about any storm is knowing that you it made it through it, and sharing in that survival with the people you love. This morning the rain clouds floated away and as I made my morning coffee the sun peeked through and shone so brightly through my kitchen window. I stopped for a moment and just soaked in its warmth, and thought to myself, "well if that isn't a metaphor, I don't know what is."