Tranquil Tempest

I used to be scared of storms.

I used to walk into school every day thinking that there was going to be a tornado, or a hurricane, or some sort of other severe weather that would kill me, even if there was not a cloud in the sky.

There were countless stormy nights when my parents, still half-asleep and groggy, would wake up to find me huddled in our downstairs bathtub with a flashlight, canned goods from our pantry, and various coloring books and other drawing supplies to help me wait out the storm that had frightened me so.

But over the years I grew from being deathly afraid of storms to being strangely fascinated by them.

In a matter of seconds the golden rays of sun dancing across my white skin would be ripped away by churning black clouds, brewing with electricity and thunder. The dry, empty air would be filled with torrents of rain, skittering and sashaying across the pavements in hurried waves as they hit. The quiet, still atmosphere would be bombarded by an onslaught of frenzied wind, bullying its way through trees and power lines and roaring its triumph over them all the while.

The speed and intensity of this exchange attracted me, so much so that I would sometimes stand outside my house in the safety of the overhang on our porch to watch the storm wreak havoc on our street.

Until one day, by some unknown impulse, I was no longer content to watch the power on the sidelines.

I had to experience it.

As if my body was on auto-pilot, I stepped out in a trance from the overhang, and gingerly made my way out to the middle of our driveway. It had not yet begun to rain, but the grey clouds above promised nothing less. They churned and rumbled in their wrath, while the wind bent the trees to its will. Leaves and loose sticks that had been nestled in the tangled foliage of the surrounding trees were uprooted and forced to dance around in the wind before falling to the ground around me.

I used to be scared of storms.

But as I stood in the middle of one, and the world shook and rumbled, threatening to tear me apart...

...I'd never felt so peaceful.