Last night I sat and watched a strong summer thunderstorm swiftly cross the lake. The branches of the trees slashed this way and that across the prematurely darkened sky. The ducks, so recently comfortably ensconced on our dock, were now no where to be found.
And then the cottage shakes as the force of the wind driven rain collides with the large picture window through which I observe this drama of nature. For several minutes all that can be seen is the wall of rain throwing itself against the glass. But slowly, it seems to tire and diminish into a gentle evening rain. And a man walkers to the end of the dock to check on his boat. The round circle of light from his flashlight reminding one of a moon on a leash.
And off to the west the angry clouds are again assembling, preparing to once again assert the immense power of nature. Safely inside, I wait in anticipation for act two of the drama.
And then the cottage shakes as the force of the wind driven rain collides with the large picture window through which I observe this drama of nature. For several minutes all that can be seen is the wall of rain throwing itself against the glass. But slowly, it seems to tire and diminish into a gentle evening rain. And a man walkers to the end of the dock to check on his boat. The round circle of light from his flashlight reminding one of a moon on a leash.
And off to the west the angry clouds are again assembling, preparing to once again assert the immense power of nature. Safely inside, I wait in anticipation for act two of the drama.
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