"And when the storms come..."

There are thunderstorms rolling through today, and they're making me a little fae.  A conversation on Twitter reminded me of something I'd written back in 2006, in a June week much like the last several days have been...


June 6, 2006

~And when the storms come, I will take the wind for my lover and we will dance with the rain as our drum~ 


It smells like thunder today. 


I love this part of storms. That time before they hit, when the air is heavy with anticipation and possibilities, and you can smell the lightning on the breeze. Especially days like today when it's been hot and humid, and your clothes cling to you, damp with sweat. I love when they are close enough that you can just start to feel the thunder as a soft vibration on your skin, and the electricity starts to dance across your nerves. That time when the wind stops and you stand and ache for its touch again, and when you almost can't stand it any more it returns full force, bringing with it the first heavy drops of rain like wine in the desert. Those times when you feel more alive, more real, than at almost any other time.


Of course, once it actually hits, this is generally the point where the fear of being struck by lightning sets in and I go hide. But there nothing in the world like that time before the storm.