Sunday, November 3, 2013

child of the storm



I woke up depressed. I wanted my heart to sing, to travel with the light down the back roads of my soul. But all I could think about was the storm I rode into yesterday.

They said it would rain. They said it would thunder.
So I headed west, searching for a place I would see the clouds build, feel the cold, wet wind, and be shaken by the thunder that rolls over these mesas and canyons.
I stood on the rim of my favorite overlook, watching the clouds roll in, watching the sun slowly disappear. It wasn't enough, standing on the edge of the earth and waiting, so I drove into the blackest cloud I could find, deliberately, challenging the forces, wanting them to make me FEEL SOMETHING.
The clouds became angry. The storm raged. Hail swept over me, baptizing me with its cold, hard rain and icy pellets. I sat on a hill, watching the lightning to the west. Did the storm increase in intensity as the day went on, or had I found the heart of the storm on that hill, the thunder calling me, the lightning flashing all around?
The rain, the hail, the thunder subsided as the sun set, and I walked through the wet leaves that covered the road. The clouds had turned purple, orange, and pink. The mountains, lost in those clouds, reflected the colors back to the sky. Mountain and sky talked like gods in watercolor words that changed and grew and became the only reality I knew as I watched from below.
Finally, I felt something. My soul was bruised and broken. I knew I would be leaving this place again, and I wondered if these storms, these sunsets, these moments that only happen once in a lifetime were begging me to stay, or if they knew I was ever there at all.


  1. I think nature was very aware of your presence there, all in a positive way. Hoping your spirits have been lifted and that no matter where you travel you take these moments with you, in your heart, in your being's energy.

    1. Thanks for the positive words. It seems this trip to Colorado has some sort of lingering sadness to it. It may or may not be our last trip up here till spring, depending on weather, husband's schedule, ect. Regardless, these wild moments WILL be a part of me forever....and Colorado's promise to be there for me whenever I return. xx

  2. You had a talk with thunder! You shared your thoughts with a black cloud. The sunset left you with a palette indescribable and mountain made you smile and question.
    I love the image of you, in your cool hat, standing still on the overlook. Very thoughtful. I can see your desire and longing to be somewhere else.
    This post is achingly beautiful.

    1. Always longing to be someplace sometimes seems to be in my nature. Living in NM, wishing for Colorado. Why is it I am never satisfied? Hmmm, that sounds like the seeds of another post....
      Thanks for the inspiration and the always positive words. The clouds are lifting. x

  3. Watching storms is one of my all-time favourite things to do. I still remember as a child watching a massive thunderstorm roll over our house, each lightning strike lit up the sky like it was daytime. I must have been about 8 or 9 at the time.
    It’s truly a gift to be able to identify what you love…or in this case, the place you love..and to be able to visit there on occasion. Enjoy what time you have left in Colorado, soak it in and take your memories with you until you can next visit.

    1. Just like you, I love a good storm. I just happen to have a weird thing for driving into them : ) I love to feel the power of the storm and see it all around me.
      Thanks for your words, Chrisy. Have a great day. xx