The sound of thunder. It is calming to me. The sound of relief, cooling, the promise that the heat of the day will soon fade. The world grows calm as the noise creeps closer. The bamboo stills and it is like the entire world is holding its breath. Butterflies hurry off to that secret place they hide. Birds quiet. The air so still. . . then more distant thunder, closer. The promise of the rain a tease as everything waits and hopes. The bamboo fidgets and my imagination gives them motivation like some eager toddlers waiting for Christmas morning, unable to stay perfectly still they twitch in expectation. Then a squall of the wind from the coming storm sets the bamboo to action. No longer toddlers, they are a raucous group flailing about, banging and clapping together in the excitement. Like some concert crowd, they clap and bap in some alien rhythm in time with some music only they can hear.
How many days of my life have I heard all this and never really heard it?
Some days remind me that the world is alive.
The first drops are falling. Tapping on metal and awning, tickling the world with the start of the rain.
The thunder is closer.
The cats are freaking out.
Soon the world around me will be washed.
The air cleansed of the oppressive heat.
The bamboo dancing in the wind will be soaked and will drip water for the rest of the night.
Sometimes I forget that it is not the rain I love so much, it is not the thunder. It is the way the storm changes the world. The way it makes everything seem new again for just a little while. That is why the sound of thunder is calming to me. It is a promise of change.