Wednesday, July 8, 2009


Extreme weather incurs powerful feelings.

The monsoon season is a time of terrifying beauty and intense power in the desert. Thunder rumbles across the sand and reverberates off of the distant mountains.

Lightning writhes throughout the heavens and casts shadows between the curtains of dark clouds in a light show never yet replicated by man.

It just doesn't seem natural to toss a city into the midst of this supernatural show of strength. Cars moving between sheets of rain. Traffic lights backed by by the majesty of a lightening lit sky.

It's like putting a statue (a glorious one such as Bernini's Ecstasy of St. Theresa) on the edge of a volcano or just above a towering water fall. It seems like nonsense. Such a strange contrast, such heights of extreme.

It is strange. But somehow it's one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen or known.

So I hike up my pajama pants and trek out on my bare feet as the rain pours down. I wander the incredible world changed by the water on the ground and in the sky, the lightning and the clouds. I become a part of it.

I kick through the puddles and the water weighs down my lashes and soaks my hair, and I have never felt so alive.

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