“Storms make trees take deeper roots.” – Dolly Parton
And So Did William Turner
I sat on my balcony two days ago, ignoring the drops of rain that blew into my face, watching as Mother Nature had a temper tantrum. While three dogs, my own canine companion, Pepper, and two I was dog-sitting, all tried to get in my lap at once for comfort, I reveled in the awesome concert created by rain slamming hard against the ground, the sky exploding with jagged streaks of light, and the thunderous claps that punctuated the air.
As I watched, I thought of Joseph Mallord William Turner, whom I once wrote a paper on for a college art class. This nineteenth-century English painter, whose canvases often captured the intensity of storms at sea, was said to have once tied himself to the mast of a ship so he could fully feel Mother Nature’s fury.
I envy him.
Why, I wonder, do I get such pleasure from something that can, and often does, wreak havoc on our planet? Why do I not cower when lightning lights up the sky and thunder booms its response — as does a friend of mine who literally hides in bed during a serious thunder storm?
One of the favorite memories of my time living in a small RV for nine years, was the morning I lay in my over-the-cab bed at Kickapoo State Park in Illinois as a mountain of rain pinged off the metal roof so close above me. I had never before felt as close to a storm as I did this one.
It was a real doozy of a tempest, too, one that caused the trees surrounding me to shake and sway and bend and dance beneath a psychedelic lightning-lit sky, while overhead the air vibrated with the quaking bass voices of rage.
I loved every moment of it. And now I wonder what that says about me?
Bean Pat: Great old Broads for Wilderness http://greatoldbroads.org/ If you’re an old broad like me, or even if you’re not, you might find this web site of interest. Their mission is one I support. I agree 100 percent with what Edward Abbey said. “Wilderness is not a luxury but a necessity of the human spirit.”