the storm

Running with this random weather theme, my writing exercise for the week is to elaborate on the title above...

My favorite storms are the ones that seem to come out of nowhere. The ones that creep in silently, with only the warning of a gentle breeze, or a dark cloud in the middle of the sky, like an ink stain on a freshly washed shirt. These types of storms are rare out here in the West, but I can recall a number of them when I was back East. Yet my most memorable storm came from a visit down South, on the banks of the Mississippi River.

The night was balmy; normal for a humid summer there, and the lights of the riverboat casino shined bright on the water, as tacky as rhinestones on blue jeans, beckoning passerby's to try their luck at the tables or slot machines inside. For those of you who don't know, riverboat casinos aren't boats at all. They don't float. They are mere facades, built into the river floor, destined never to traverse the waters in which they sit. Quite sad, really. But I'm sure the people who board them know this and don't get as depressed as I do at the lack of movement. It was aboard one of these fake boats that a storm hit so suddenly that not until a bolt of lightning touched down to illuminate the water that I knew it was happening. The sight of lightning coming down from the sky is a breath-taking event in itself, but when it smacks down upon a body of water as big as the great Mississippi, it's mind-blowing. Nature at its best, and its worst. And any boat, real or fake, that stands in it way could be doomed to a nasty, firey demise.

The insane crack of a bolt of lightning, like that of a steel bull whip, makes most men stop in their tracks. It commands full attention, or fear. That night crowds gathered on the bows, watching in awe as nature, or since we were in the center of the Bible-Belt, as God, smote down his vengeance upon the world. The sky lit up with each jolt, like a long jagged firework, appearing across the water, then closer, then away, then in unison with another bolt, at different levels, different thicknesses, and different intensities of sound. Cracks, crashes, snaps, and the occasional buzz completed the night's music. Thunder, Lightning's brother, was absent for this purely electrical storm, taking a break while his sibling wreaked havoc, letting him gain a little respect from the heathens below.

And like most tantrums, the spectacle came to a slow end, Thunder grabbing his brother's hand saying "That's enough." Lightning rolled his eyes and finally agreed, putting away his toys of destruction. I stayed out on the bow after everyone went back inside. I continued to watch the sky. The clouds disbursed and the air settled again into its thick seat. The element of surprise is what amazes me the most about weather like that. But at that moment all I had wanted was that lightning to take out the posts beneath, so that this stagnant ship could set sail and explore a world which held such surprises as the one I had just witnessed. Yep sad, really.

Quote of the Day: A synonym is a word you use when you can't spell the other one. ~Baltasar Gracián