letting the thunder be

"Thunder is the sound of the shockwave caused during a thunderstorm when lightning rapidly heats and expands the air in and directly around the lightning channel (bolt) into plasma, producing acoustic shock waves in the atmosphere identified as thunder. It is said that the air is heated up to 30 000 °C (54 000 °F)."

-Wikipedia



Tonight I sit in my apartment as a rainstorm cools the hot summer heat. It has been a balmy 39 C in Montréal (with the humidity factor), and I have spent the past couple days in my un-airconditioned apartment toying with insanity. The trick to survival is to make peace with stickiness, to keep the drinking glasses in the freezer, and to take two cold showers a day.

So the thunderstorm is a welcomed respite from the heat.

I am fascinated by the grandeur of thunder. I love its magnitude, its unappologetic presence, and the way a good crack of thunder can be felt inside of my chest. I am reminded of my littleness when a dramatic storm rolls through my structured days. I have no control over the lightning and thunder; it is refreshing to step back and indulge in the powerlessness of the moment.

I can't say that I fully understand how thunder occurs, despite the brief definition above... and I feel content in not-knowing. It is something that I prefer to keep mysterious. Somethings affect us which require refection and processing , while others we need not analyze. I will enjoy the thunder and let it be.


* * * *

Non-thunderous things that have rocked my world in the past couple of months:


SONG: "Take the Long Way" by Po'Girl (out of Vancouver)... sweet harmonies, dizzying heights, and a call for taking time to see the moon. Beautiful. (Thanks for the introduction Rachel)

MOVIE: "Crash" by Canada's own Paul Haggis. Definitely worth the hype, and a deserving Oscar win. I appreciated how each charater was a villain and a hero in his or her own way... outlined a personal core belief: there are no winners when it comes to racism.

BOOK: "Written on the Body" by Jeanette Winterson. Part novel, part prose, heavily romantic, achingly tragic.


"Written on the body is a secret code only visible in certain lights; the accumulations of a lifetime gather there. In places the palimpsest is so heavily worked that the letters feel like braille"


PLACE: Montana, USA. I cannot argue with its shear beauty... from winding rivers, to golden prairies, to the continental divide. I want to go back and explore.