For the past few days I have awoken to the thickest, wettest air imaginable. Usually air is a thing that can go unnoticed – unless it is moving irregularly fast, if it smells, or if it is very, very wet.
The days have started out with wet & thick air. I walk outside & my hair surprisingly perks up with sweet little curls I’ve never had before falling out of my braid, cradling my face. My skin feels damp & sticky, even when I’m not moving around a lot. And I remember what droplets of sweat are like – behind the knees, between my breasts, in the inside of my elbow. When I play tennis, the sweat from my body joins the sweat in the air & I feel like I am swimming. I am a fish hitting a ball with my fins aggressively across a net. Somehow the ball maintains its sense of gravity in all of this water.
But the afternoons, and they have been all the same as well, these are my favorite. For in the afternoons, the sky turns from grayish light blue dotted with translucent puffy clouds to a dark churning pot of swirling grey & black. The air loses some of its water & starts to move quickly making a lot of noise in the trees. Clouds are moving fast now and everything starts to feel eery, as if preparing for something grand & monumental.
Suddenly the sky cracks. Streams of light go racing through the sky, at times whipping the earth below. Winds are picking up & rains start to pelt the earth. The air is moving very fast around me now and the sky is a spiraling mess. This is a summer storm and it is one of my favorite types of weather.
When the winds pick up, trees make such peculiarly satisfying sounds as it moves through their leaves. As light pours forth sprinkling the earth & the sky drops in chunks of wetness, clouds applaud in claps & stomps. When I am in the midst of a storm, I feel complete & happy, never afraid. If I was longing before the storm, I am quickly sated, like a baby at the tit. My senses dance around as they take it all in. I am in wonder & awe at the power unleashed within moments playing in fields as light drips into trees & booms and rumbles shake the ground I stand on. I feel so connected in these moments. My affinity for storms is oftentimes greater than for times of calm. Perhaps I am akin to a witch of old, tying knots in rope or in my hair to influence their coming & going.
Storms comfort me; through the loss of control, the wild display of power, I feel at safe & at home.