A thunderstorm passed through a few moments ago. My son fell asleep on the couch next to me, but not before he opened the window that sits level with my desk. The study is filled with the lyrical sound of the last staccato raindrops pinging the gutters. Turns out that Dane loves thunderstorms, too and I treasure this commonality.
The storm is working her magic on me. Coupled with candles, Macy at my feet, and a diet cherry limeade, it’s all I need to get into the mood to write. Not that I have to be in any certain mood to write.
I know, it’s been like crickets in the halls of MamaMick. There are cobwebs in the corners, dust bunnies under the bed, and dried pizza crusts gathering ants in the discarded box. I’ve popped in long enough to say hello and then disappeared again–like Cheshire Cat.
Most of my summer has been spent on an airplane or at a baseball diamond and I’m not complaining about either. The weekly trips to Atlanta and Nashville and South Carolina (and Omaha and Wichita and Kansas City) keep me employed and food on the table (IF I would ever make it out to actually buy groceries). And baseball? Well–you know how much I love the game.
I’ll be back soon. There are phrases and stories brewing in my head and even more already written in journals, notebooks, and on the backs of plane tickets and paper napkins. I’m going to spruce this place up, redecorate, move some furniture and reengage…soon.
For now, I’m going to enjoy the rest of the thunderstorm, count my blessings, and leave you images of what summer looks like in my neck of the woods. Thank you so much for stopping by–I never take your visits for granted.
And, to Bob from church. Thank you for reminding me to get my camera out again.
A Thunderstorm in Town
by Thomas Hardy
She wore a new ‘terra-cotta’ dress,
And we stayed, because of the pelting storm,
Within the hansom’s dry recess,
Though the horse had stopped; yea, motionless
We sat on, snug and warm.
Then the downpour ceased, to my sharp sad pain,
And the glass that had screened our forms before
Flew up, and out she sprang to her door:
I should have kissed her if the rain
Had lasted a minute more.