It has always captivated me, the sound of thunder. As soon as I detect the faintest of rumbles or distant growls of a growing storm, I become scared and entranced.
It all started when I was very, very small. I would be lying in my bed, and feel a slight pang of excitement at the sound of a storm rolling in off the lake. As it got closer, however, the deep mysterious grumblings would force me to seek shelter under my blankets. I could feel my eyes growing wide with wonderment and fear. How big would this storm be? Will it last forever and ever? Will it cause all the trees to come crashing down on me? Would the rain make our house float away? I would be taunted and teased, but not to a point of being so scared that I would go seek help from my parents. I was braver than that….most of the time.
I would play games with the thunder, perhaps to prove that I was not afraid of a few cracks and bangs:
It sounded like a herd of gigantic dinosaurs, running along the tops of the clouds in the sky.
Better still – it was spirits, or ghosts, having a good old bowling match in some celestial bowling alley way up above.
I also truly believed that if I covered my ears and hid deeper under the covers that I could hide from it. A short-lived game of hide and seek. The barrage of booms would quickly find me. I would hear the windows rattle, and peek out from my place of protection, revealing my location. Curiosity would get the better of my imagination over and over again.
It is the fear that stirs within me that I am attracted to. Even now, when I lie in bed at night, listening to the threatening roar of an approaching storm, I am both intimidated and drawn in by the symphony of nature’s most flamboyant of elements. I eagerly anticipate each roar from the clouds, wondering what the next one will sound like. Will it be louder than the one that preceded it? Will it last longer? How bright will accompanying burst of lightning be?
As soon as my questions are answered with the next onslaught of explosions, my first response is always a startled one… a jump or a shudder.
When I was a kid, thunder storms opened up a magical world for me to create and explore. On those nights, and there seemed to be so many, there was no limit to the stories I could concoct when presented with these fantastical sights and sounds emanating from the sky. It was as if my imagination was being projected out of my brain – in 3D.
A writer’s mind in the making, perhaps.
Now that I have grown, I do not play those games anymore. I do still love thunder storms and for the same reasons I did as a child. Maturity and wisdom (and a few science classes) may have taught me that thunder is the sound that lightning makes, not dinosaurs running around in the sky. But still….I bet if dinosaurs did do such a thing, it would sound very much like thunder.
I will end this now with a couple of things that I want to share.
The first is an image and article I found on what the sounds of thunder mean to someone else:
The second is one of my all time favourite songs EVER. When I hear it, I swear I am seven years old again, at the cottage with my parents on a summer evening. All these years later, the words of Eddie Rabbitt still perfectly sum up the feelings and emotions I experience when I listen to the reverberations of thunder…
Thunder storms are uninvited guests that enter your life for a short, wicked period of time. Sure they disrupt you – but you have to give them credit for being wildly entertaining.
(Thanks again, Daily Post! A most challengeing theme to write about- but definately glad I took part! This was great writing practice!!)