As the Storm Rolls In

Ooooooh shit.
This rain is some fine stuff.
I'd like to start off by tipping my hat to Bryce, for telling me to take out my earbuds and open a window. He commented on the thunder and I promptly shut down Spotify and cracked my bedroom window.

I'd also like to say that this isn't quite a creative piece, but it's not a blog post either. This blog is quickly transforming into a directionless blob and I'm A O K with it.

I have to break this down into stages a bit, though in real time it hits you all at once.

1. The first wave of thunder was subtle, the second louder. There's a louder crash and I jump a bit.

2. Then the smell hits me. It smells damp. It's about to rain. 

(Usually these little storms fall north of my house, and we don't actually get the rain, just the noise of the storm blowing over. But it smells like we might get some actual rainfall tonight.)

3. It's close. A breeze slips through my window, and I can feel my skin scrunching into goosebumps, the temperature dropping in my room.

4. There's a flash of light in the sky, there and gone.

5. There isn't really a way to describe anticipation, but it's similar to the way you feel when you bite into a hamburger you've been waiting for in a restaurant, so I guess that's where taste plays into this. It sounds like a stretch, but it isn't.

It starts to rain.

The rain starts slow, and speeds up, and the symphony of senses continues through the evening. There was some really close lightning a second ago. It sounded like a hundred fists rapping on a closed metal door, all packed into two seconds of sound, gone before it started.

And that's what it's like. To sit next to your bedroom window at 10:30 pm, in late April, in Eastern Iowa. You're fully aware there are other things you should be doing. But you sit anyway, and you taste and see and smell and hear and feel the storm. Only a few things really appeal to all five of your senses. 

It's a light-up feeling, like you get one the love of your life walks into the same room, and you see them, feel them get closer, smell their shampoo as they slip past you, hear the melodic sound of their voice, and taste the electricity in the air between the two of you.

That's probably straight out of some song on the radio about the electricity of love hitting you like lightning or something, and it makes no sense and perfect sense. 

(Yikes this is an angsty post. I don't even have a thunderstorm love right now, I just want one, I guess.)

Find someone that overwhelms you and brings you peace. Find yourself a thunderstorm love. It can be both at the same time.
Claire