pot of gold

dav

The colors burst across the sky in a banded arcing spectrum.  The warmth of the sun on their backs as they marveled at the bow was an odd sensation considering the icy drops of rain that still fell.  The puddles at their feet churned and their hair was soon drenched.  They stood in silence, mesmerized by the beauty and strangeness of the moment.  Then the storm shifted again and the rainbow faded away, taking its promise of gold with it.

The day held many such magical moments as the sun slipped in and out of view and the rain fell in starts and stops.  They never seemed to tire of it, though.  It didn’t become routine or mundane.  Each new spark of beauty was a reason to stop and revel.  Perhaps that was down to their youthful naivety?  Or, perhaps, that was the full power of nature on display?  The truth may never be known and doesn’t really matter anyway.  They didn’t need to know why the day was magical to appreciate it.

rain

The rain cleared and the horizon stretched to where the mountains met the heavens, clean and clear and glorious.

There isn’t much I don’t like about good storm.  And, I would be hard pressed to give you the same answer every time to what my favorite part is, because that certainly changes based on time of day, my mood, how long it has been between storms, what day of the week it is, …  and on and on.

But, there is certainly something magical about letting my eyes cast towards the far off lands and feel like it is so close I could touch it.  It’s right there.  If I could just get my fingertips to push that much further outward…  If I could just keep walking, just keeping running, just keep driving…  If…

Well, that’s just it, isn’t it?  A storm, to me, opens up the infinite possibilities of that magical “if.”  The power behind it.  The way it sweeps the world clean.  The sense of rejuvenation of purpose and spirit.  The basic essence of life.  They combine into this one thing, a drop of rain, that can mean so much more, that can mean everything, if only we have the imagination to dream…

my halloween story

What follows is a true account of my drive home from volleyball late last night.  A moonless sky.  A tired mind and body.  A dark stretch of road…

It dropped down, swaying ever so slightly on a single delicate strand, an eight legged shadow, obvious in its presence yet still hidden enough to make identification impossible.  Was it poisonous?  Was it really as large as it seemed as it hovered in front of my vision?  What should I do?

Before I could switch on a light, or make it to an intersection where the street lamps might help answer the questions flooding my mind, it collected itself and climbed back up that solitary strand to disappear behind my rear view mirror.

The terror, the absolute horror, a spider loose in my truck.  It was a struggle to continue driving, to keep my truck between the lines.

I haven’t found the spider.

It’s still there, lurking, waiting, preparing…