Summer Storm

The forecast for last night called for a severe thunderstorm warning. After numerous days of high humidity and upper-90-degree temperatures, I welcomed the possibility. I watched the sky darken as I sat on the screened porch with my three dogs and one cat. The winds picked up, bending the tall trees, showing the undersides of leaves, and sending the sounds of an oncoming train.

Finally, the skies opened and rain began to fall, delightfully. It rained sideways as the wind carried the rain in sheets across the drive and through the gardens. I wondered at the word “sheets” to describe how rain falls. Was it like bedsheets? Or sheets of paper? There was a white to it and a form that moved as though it had somewhere important to be.

Thunder roared, but I saw no lightning. The dogs were calm, but I saw no birds. I wondered where they had sheltered as the trees were moving with such ferocity, that they didn’t seem a safe place to wait out the storm. The temperature dropped from 91-degrees to 74-degrees and with it a lifting of the oppressive humidity. We could all breath easier.

The morning brought the smell of freshly-washed air, of a breeze sent to absorb the water that had fallen last night. The echinacea looked happy. The large potted flowers seemed a bit water-logged. As I prayed from the same place where I watched last night’s storm, I heard a cacophony of sounds. Birds seemed to be everywhere, singing, chirping, flying, criss-crossing. They reminded me of children being set free of the classroom to head out for recess. Most of the birds were in pairs or groups as they fluttered about. All but one, that is.

One sets itself apart on the railing of my deck and looks up into the sky. I know its name because I see the dark spot on its chest. It conjures up, from its very soul, the sound of heaven. It opens its beak as it releases the melody for all to hear. The song sparrow.

And, all is right with the world.