July 6, 2024

Three Musings on Summer Thunderstorms:

the sky darkens to post-sunset dusky grey
and a lightning bolt passes by my window
the rumble of thunder
the stream of rain
and this summer storm is at it again

[i love this weather]

~~~

thunderstorms make me smile
interrupting the daily toil
of sunrise and shine and set and night
darkening a summer morning
or lightning-flash-brightening
midnight pitch black,
sounds escaping our atmosphere —
booms and cracks and the smacks of hard raindrops
cleansing the air
feeding the ground
offering greener hues when the showers subside
and summertime just isn’t summer
without

~~~

drench me in rain
fill my ears with thunderclaps
and my eyes with bright bolts of lightning

let me taste a summer storm
and offer my nose the delightful scent
of petrichor

as the pressure changes
and my heart grows
and i know
i’m present and whole.

January 28, 2024

growing up
in a western suburb of Cleveland, Ohio
with just a father in the house with me,
we would
diligently
watch The Weather Channel every morning —
the local weather on the 8s
with its gentle jazz running under
to give a vibe
of what that day’s weather would provide,
and the clearest memory
to me
is this version of “Stormy Weather”
[i believe it is this exact one i’m listening to
now
of the Red Garland Trio]
whenever the weather outside
was set to be relatively
abysmal/
storm or dreary/
rainy day/
cloudy skies
ready to open up
at any moment —
i can hear the offset rhythm,
the harmonies of the piano keys
of a tune i do know the words to,
and i can still see that wood-paneled room
with beige carpet
and cellar door next to the television we’d stare at
trying to guide our coat choices for that day…
and just the two of us
thinking about only the weather
for a moment or two
before the rest of the stress
would settle in
to our aching bones.

[just a moment
a consistent moment
i can remember]