by Janet Ruth
Grandma’s sun porch stretched across the back of the house on the second floor. One step down from the hallway, window-walls on three sides, an iron bed against the fourth. A great place for summer slumber—waking in golden light. My favorite place to sleep …
until the thunderstorm. Typical Nebraska storm. Boiling cumulonimbus, first bright white, then pewter and black, built walls and armies above the Great Plains through the afternoon. They broke open at dark—lightning, thunder, tumble of rain and wailing wind. Ten years old and afraid. Dad found me cowering beneath blankets pulled over my head.
Not always sympathetic—Dad was prone to tease at signs of fear. But on this night, he reached deep and rose above his blustering, joking persona. He sat on the bed next to me, and I remember his words across almost sixty years. You like to watch fireworks. Isn’t this storm just like that—lots of bright flashes and big booms? Which are your favorites? Let’s sit and watch for a while, pretend we’re sitting on that scratchy blanket back home on the 4th of July. Aren’t they beautiful? So we did and I still do.
spark and flash
trailing crack and rumble
cringe and … aah … !
Janet Ruth is a New Mexico ornithologist and poet. Her writing focuses on connections to the natural world. Her book Feathered Dreams was a 2018 NM/AZ Book Awards finalist. redstartsandravens.com/janets-poetry