Friday 6 June 2008

A thunderstorm in Maine

by Lorri Centineo, Portland MEDanny Burk photo: Cove and pines in rain, along Loop Road, Acadia National Park, Maine, May 2006

I love thunder storms. When the booming voice begins at wind-turn, leaves flip upside-down on their branches. Their silvery display glistens through the first droplets and I stand looking skyward, watching and waiting for my lashes to fill with tiny prisms that color my world.

Today all is color. Nascent bursts of spring mimic autumn's vivid hues. Pink flowering crabs nestle against the darkest of pines as ivory efflorescences sneak to the edges of the wood, horse chestnuts racing to shade mossy stream banks, those hips that contain flowing of the universe. Birth uncovers her face in glare lightning, its food pummeled to earth, unstoppable by humankind.

Grey never stays.

And today, the deluge and its celebrated flashes and roars barely scraped the blue expanse above. Golden as she rose, our sultry set her jaw and scolded the sodden darkness into sunmission, tying us once again to the beauty of glistening color, drenched with nature's blessings.

Twilight settles.

No comments: