Wednesday, July 27, 2011

There was a thunderstorm yesterday. It fit my mood. I watched lightning strikes across the valley from my office window--but that wasn't good enough. By the time I got home, the storm was just starting to hit there. Yes! The wind roared and the rain pounded. Big, fat drops of rain. Gabe (my 2 1/2 year old grandson) and I opened the family room doors to watch it and listen to it. I held him up so he could put his arm out into the rain without getting soaked. It was noisy. I loved it.  Gabe looked at me and said, "The rain is my friend." That's what he says all the time now when something or someone is scary: "____ is my friend." I think it comforts him to move the scary person/thing into that role. It's reassuring. I should think of that strategy myself: The audience is my friend. The article I'm trying to write is my friend. Anyway, after watching the storm for a few minutes, we closed the door, shutting out the noisiest elements. Gabe went back to playing cars, and I started dinner. A few minutes later there was a boom of thunder that shook the house. Gabe looked up: "Dinosaurs," he said with wonder. And I thought it was probably what they would sound like, especially just before they charged you. Scary.

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