As I write, Tropical Storm Andrea is almost right over me. All night long I could hear the rain pouring, the wind knocking branches against my roof. I even dreamed about the beach’s tall, stormy waves and sideways rain that a tropical storm can bring. The trees outside my window now are bending, and the news is talking about gusts up to 50 miles per hour. And last night I was grumpy, kind of complain-y that the warnings and flash flooding might keep me inside, would stop me and my efforts to Be Outside.
The rain has stopped for a moment. It’s 6:18 am, and I was just outside. I walk around my house, look down my street, admire some small water drops cupped in the center of the red bush in my front yard. A drop of rain water blows off a tree and lands on my cheek. The air is thick with humidity and warm. Birds are singing, and cicadas are the rhythm section.
Andrea is a beautiful interruption.
I see the beauty in the wind, the graceful sweet of the crepe myrtles. The sky has the slightest hint of blue in it. Drops fall from my roof one at a time. I hear the sound of the ocean in the wind. I’m thankful for this weather the same way I am thankful for the sunshine. It’s the same way I’m thankful for true blue skies and long shadows in the afternoon. I’m thankful for this tropical storm and the differences it brings to what’s out my window. And I’m also thankful that this storm isn’t any worse, that it isn’t a Hugo, that we haven’t had tornadoes here that are sometimes possible.
A wall of rain just dropped heavily in the yard and moved on as quickly as it started. The top of the oak tree across the street is waving to me. And I’m safe, quiet, and filled with awe for this tropical storm.
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