Taking Our Chances

Forecasted and duly alert, a series of violent
thunderstorms. The richness of oncoming
thunder rolls heralding nascent lightning
strikes us as immensely thrilling. The world
about us, so recently sizzling and bright
under the blazing summer sun become dark,
compelling the sky's open, ocean blue swiftly
transformed by popular demand to a closed
cloud-dark theatre of staged anticipation.

The storm has passed, the sky presents as
an immense query, undecided whether to
host blue or black, in the process revealing
itself a bruised lid on the landscape below,
teasing us and testing us with the vexing
proposition of sun renascent or rain continued.

Nothing will deter us this day, and we resolve
to set out even as rain picks its place and the
blue has been tucked back behind the blackened
immensity of lowering sky. As we approach
the trailhead, sheets of rain are released and we
shelter under densely leafed boughs of poplars
and maples, then move further into the ravine.

Spruce and pine welcome us as we descend
the trail. There is no other choice but to
continue, enjoying the cool, wet, refreshing
landscape which makes us feel oddly tension
released. Our trek in the rain under the
forest canopy impresses as a holiday, we
feel generously embraced by nature herself.

Hugely protracted rolls of thunder like a
giant, heaven-based contest sending great
hard balls bowling along the alleyways of the
heavens, as lightning is seen cracking across
the dark screen above the dripping canopy.
The forest trees have an oddly bright green
presence, like a form of luminescence,
glowing in the peculiar gloom of the day.