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“It is lightning that strikes, not thunder.”


I love thunderstorms. Love them. When I was a kid I would dance to them out in the yard. Until it became too much for my mother’s nervous system and she would call me back inside. And who could blame her? Me out there in my bare feet in water puddles up to my miniature ankles. My friend thinks I once called a thunderstorm up off of the ocean at her wedding in Miami. Me and a girlfriend out in the sea grass dancing to the incoming storm, welcoming it to its landfall. I even enjoy lighting dancing outside my airplane window. I love thunderstorms. Tonight I saw the biggest bolt of lightening I have ever seen. Like a thick rope coming down from the sky and landing in what seemed to be my across the street neighbor’s backyard. So huge. Nine doors down from me, my sister’s lights flickered before the thunder even sounded. That is how much energy went skittering off across the molecules in the sky. And the sound when it did come…It exploded somewhere deep in my guts with a hint of dread. It had to be only seconds but I waited for it with some fear. Still tingling from what I had seen, while knowing what had to be coming. Amazing. Awesome.

“Thunder roars but does not strike. Lightning strikes but does not roar. Choose to be lightning.” ― Matshona Dhliwayo


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