It has been raining all day today again. I don’t mind the Oregon rain, but I miss the thunderstorms I remember as a child in Pennsylvania. I can still remember distinctly . . .

A burst of thunder announces the rain before it even arrives and lightning splits open the sky. With a squeal of delight I dash outside to our front porch. Rain falls to the earth in sheets. Darting into the rain I fling my arms wide spinning in giddy circles. I turn my face to the rain and let the raindrops splash against my tongue.

“Hurry back up here to the porch before you get fried!” mother playfully calls at the second roll of thunder and strike of lightning. I settle myself into my favorite spot to watch the show, under the old table on the porch. As the rain pounds the earth incessantly, the intoxicating scent of damp earth washes over me. I enjoy nature’s fireworks accompanied by astounding sound effects.

Too soon it ends and steals away as quickly is it came; torrents fading into drips. The sun forces its way through the clouds and the only remnants of the storm to be found are giant puddles in the fields. We bound through the fields from puddle to puddle. They become wading pools as we splash and play in the summer sun the water lapping at our waists. Too soon the life is sucked out of them and we wait, anxious for our next thunderstorm romp.


Filed under Farm Stories, Memory, Personal History, Writing

9 responses to “Thunderstorm

  1. Another feast for the senses. You do that so well, Julia.

  2. ok, being from tornado alley, the idea that you sat beneath a METAL table on the porch to watch the storm terrifies me!

    i bet you talk on the phone during thunderstorms too, don’t you?


  3. I miss a good eastern thunderstorm, too.

    Thanks for the memory. That was beautiful.

  4. I think it was a synthetic wood table with metal legs and the porch roof and supports going into the ground were metal and would have acted as the conductor. I believe I remember distinctly not being allowed to touch the phone during thunderstorms. Especially because of an experience my dad had on one of his lookout towers. He was radioing in a fire he sighted and just after he “hung” up he had a feeling he should move out of the metal chair he was sitting in and just as he did lighning shout out of the radio and struck chair where he had been sitting.

    I’m sure my parents would never had let me sit under that table if they weren’t sure it was a safe place . . . heh πŸ™‚

  5. When we lived in Arizona, I loved to go out and dance in the thunderstorms. It would only rain durring the monsoon season, and it would rain so hard that streets would turn into rivers! I love rain!

  6. Karen – Thank you πŸ™‚

    PM- Glad to bring back a fun memory, I still get giddy on the rare chances we have a thunderstorm here πŸ™‚

    April – that is cool, I remember a time when streets were turned into rivers, but that is another post for another day . . .hmm, maybe today, it is still raining and I feel rainy . . .

  7. Living in Phoenix I very much remember those days. I too like FF was a little worried when you said you sat under a metal table, the only thing that comforted me was knowing that IT was under a porch.

    I love monsoon season. I got to experience it in Phoenix, and I also get to enjoy it here too. I love it when the streets turn to rivers, its awesome!

  8. I could see it, smell it, and feel it as I read… Thanks for taking us there!

  9. White Shores

    I could see it, smell it, and feel it as I read… Thanks for taking us there!

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