Thursday, July 03, 2008

Stormy Weather

Curled up in my red leather chair last night to reread Stephen King's On Writing. First, I lit a candle or two, pulled up Paul Potts on the iPod, and watched gloom gather over the pond. 

Life's beauty brushed me like fur over skin. Magnificent.  

Gradually, I realized it was raining. Hard. Pretty soon the wind picked up, yowling through the trees like a living thing. 

So glad it's out there and I'm in here, I thought, as though the walls and windows somehow actually separated me from nature's force.

Turned on the tv to check for warnings and heard reports of "teacup-sized hail." Seriously?  According to the weather guy, it's one of the official descriptions. Never heard it before.

My storm shelter is a lovely bathroom in the basement. I made a nest of pillows and quilts and lounged on the bathroom floor for a while, content with my book and my music. Got out flashlights and all, but didn't take the whole too seriously.

Strange, how the illusion of safety can be as good as the real thing. Come to think of it, the illusion's all we've ever got. Might as well enjoy it. 
 

3 comments:

Doubting Thomas said...

"Illusion is all we've got. Might as well enjoy it."

That's a thought that I'll be entertaining over the holiday weekend. I don't know about you, but I find this to be a statement of triumph.

Go Mama said...

That's the spirit, Jerri. Enjoy the "hunkering down." Sounds like you've created quite a cozy nest.

Carrie Wilson Link said...

"Come to think of it, the illusion's all we've ever got. Might as well enjoy it."

That last paragraph is my organic pot of green tea. (I'm reading backwards, can you tell?)