lightning

Spring Arrives Tomorrow – ND 102

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 2 Comments
Approaching Thunderstorm – Photo: L. Weikel

Spring Arrives Tomorrow

It’s quiet tonight, and I even have the front door flung wide open to take in the sounds of whomever might still be awake. The peepers were in full throat earlier, but the only voice I hear now is the wind’s, sighing through the tops of the pine trees across the way. Perhaps all the creatures fell asleep when they hunkered down during the thunderstorm that rolled through earlier. Spring arrives tomorrow, riding the coattails of the lightning that lit up the sky tonight.

As much as I love the peepers and tree frogs, though, I’m rarely disappointed when silence is the prevailing theme for the evening. In this moment, I feel like silence is an especially rare gift that those of us lucky enough to have it should receive with gratitude – and awe.

Daffodils Amid Ice – Photo: L. Weikel

Life Bursts Forth

The warmth of the past two days has caused a virtual eruption from within the soil. Croci and daffodils bloomed in a cacophony of color yesterday. With so much of our attention on the war and carnage in Ukraine, it seems almost weird to witness Nature’s relentless surge toward expression.

Weird, but are any of us truly surprised? I doubt it. We all know, if we’re honest, that humans may end up killing ourselves. But Nature will almost certainly survive. (I’d say it’s certain, but I don’t want to jinx it. Never challenge our species in the whole ‘who can make things worse’ category. If anything, ‘We’re number one!’ when it comes to that. Woohoo!)

Full Virgo Moon

Last night, the moon reached her peak fullness. A neighbor had a lovely full moon fire in the middle of her forest. It was gorgeous to witness as we wrapped up an early evening walk. At first it seemed risky but it was clear she had built it just so and neither a tree nor a leaf budding forth was in danger of being singed. In fact, the flames licking upward caused deep orange shadows to dance on the bodies of all the trees serving as sentinels.

A moon cycle comes to its apex. A season of introspection and rejuvenation ends.

Let’s envision skies that are quiet and peaceful rippling out across the world. A new season. A new way of being.

And precisely as I wrote the words of that last sentence, the eerie, unexpected bray of a donkey echoed throughout our little hamlet.

(T+102)

Little Pleasures – Day 618

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Photo: L. Weikel

Little Pleasures

My post this evening is going to be short and sweet. It’s all about life’s little pleasures – discovering, celebrating, and appreciating them.

My life, I’m almost embarrassed to say, is filled with little pleasures. The unexpected softness of Tigger’s fur and the way he gazes deeply into my eyes and gives me a little, “Mrrow,” when I talk to him. The thrill of sitting on the porch in the dark of night with my sons while a thunder and lightning storm rages all around us. Taking walks with Karl through a tunnel of emerald leaves providing sweet respite from the searing rays of the sun.

Yes, I know. This isn’t the first time I’ve written about the little things in life that warm my heart or bring me joy. I try not to duplicate my musings of appreciation, although I’m sure I do, for even though I admit to having my favorite, tried-and-true indulgences, the truth is that I could probably write for days and days without struggling for inspiration.

Tonight’s Indulgence

Moments ago, I took Sheila outside for her final evening’s relief, and had the opportunity to stand in the midst of a gentle rain, my bare feet sinking into a layer of surprisingly warm and soft grass. Thunder and lightning sparked and grumbled in the distance, but posed no threat to either Sheila or me. The only sounds I heard besides the thunder were raindrops splattering on leaves above our heads.

The next pleasure awaiting me is an indulgence of my tastebuds as I savor a mélange of perfectly ripened, burgundy hued cherries and plump, purple-juiced blueberries.

Finally, I intend to place my head on the extraordinary pillow lovingly given to me this past Christmas. I’m weary, having only slept about three and a half hours last night, so the anticipation of sinking into the cool comfort of my pillow beckons irresistibly.

Life’s little pleasures, my friends. They’re the things we must hold to most fiercely, especially now. I know I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know. But in extreme times such as these, we need to encourage each other – and ourselves – to savor each drop of goodness that comes our way.

Tigger & Spartacus – Little Pleasures – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-493)

Wild Storms – Day 515

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Tree Lightning – Photo: L. Weikel

Wild Storms

I recently wrote about the intense lightning storm we had the other night. The astonishing and relentless strings of flashes that seemed to reach into our bedroom from all directions to shake us awake were intensely brilliant. And I know I mentioned it before, but the lack of accompanying thunder was eerie.

Today, I was sitting on our porch writing when I looked up and noticed some very bruised looking clouds amassing on the western horizon. In only a few minutes, the wind started whipping around, flinging our Christmas tree (which we leave outside near the feeders to give shelter to the birds through the springtime) into the side of Karl’s car and slamming our front door open. I ran to shut that door again and as I returned to the porch I saw a burst of searing brilliance at the corner of our road as a transformer blew.

Seeing those sparks arc halfway across the roadway made me realize just how different this social isolation would be if all of us weren’t so connected in so many other ways. Hail started clattering onto the porch and bouncing off our kitchen door.

Brilliant Sunshine

Only a few hours later, Karl and I were back out taking our daily perambulation. The only remnants of the wildness of the earlier storms were the literal logs that had broken off in the maelstrom and been strewn in the roadway in at least three places.

But the day was crystal clear and all the pollen had been wiped clean from every leaf.

Too bad I couldn’t capture in a photo the lightning of the other evening. But I did manage to ‘snag’ a shot of a different type of lightning. I call it ‘tree lightning,’ which is – well, certainly safer photograph!

Time for me to get to bed. I stayed up way too late last night, feeling sure the glitch in my server would be fixed at any moment and I’d be able to publish my post in a timely manner.

Guess I had that wrong.

But I’d be remiss if I didn’t include at least one rainbow photo from the day before yesterday. The colors were simply breathtaking. Surely the rainbows were a message that we must not give in to the sadness, worry, and fear all around us. We must dig deep and find our hope.

I can do that – at least today I can.

Full arcing (double) rainbow – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-596)