No, no Garth Brooks meanings here.
It started last night with a big flash and a distant rumble.
Then another noticeable rumble at about 4 am.
Now, 7 am brings a flash so bright I see it with my eyes closed.
Puppette is uneasy, Bugsy barks and Poni could care less as the thunder rolls over the house like a breaking wave.
The flood gates open and the rain hits the bathroom skylight like a small drum with an irregular rhythm to start my day.
Up and out with the dogs into the wet morning. I try to keep the umbrella over Poni. No, not to spoil her, I can't find her rain coat and she won't pee if she feels rain on her ass. Would you?
We come back in and I start to exercise a little, get the bones moving. the rain is a gray mist outside, it falls so hard. the drum in the bathroom is loud enough to be heard over my work out music. I see day light pale flashes of lightning and count the seconds.
I read it is 5 seconds per mile, not three per mile as I was taught as a kid. Either way the storm is coming closer.
The lights flicker, Poni decided to bark her defiance at Odin's hammer being thrown about upstairs. I sweat out the aerobic part of my movements and count seconds to distract me from the burn in my legs, shoulders.
I love a good storm.
I wrote my very first short story about a thunder storm.
I am going to watch the lightning.