Storms - Derek Bryant

The other morning I was awake at 6 in the morning. I was working on a paper for another class and noticed the sound of rain, heavy rain at that. I walked out of my house onto the porch and looked out into a wall of water and wind. And in the distance you could here and see lightning strike the earth. It was a numinous feeling to the lightning. It is such a powerful force and remains still a mystery as to its workings. So I sat on my porch for a while with a beer in hand, this is 6 a.m. still awake from the day before this is not morning beer this is super late night beer. But with the storm mulling around me and the storm, it was powerful. Not peaceful, or even serene, it was simply there. The smell of the rain, you could almost smell the scent of where the storm had come from. The sight of this unending and unrelenting wall of rain that seemed to just turn my front yard to a bog in moments. And the sound of the rain, steady and almost melodic, and then you would see a bright flash of lightning from a source you're not sure of. And you would sit there waiting in anticipation to hear the crack and roar of thunder. There seemed a chthonic power of the storm. It's power derived only of itself. And slowly the lightning got closer, and louder, and soon the strike was so close the boom of thunder shook the very house. And then in moments it passed. Moving on to its final location to dissapate. And the sky was once again clear and the morning rays of light were beginning to shine through.