As we move into storm season, I truly feel energized. I've always had a feeling of connection and motivation when storm clouds gather in the distance. The process of "battening down the hatches" as I fold the patio umbrella, find the candles and close up the windows gives me a bit of a thrill. It's humbling to see the flashes of light in the sky and to feel insignificant in the face of such light and sound. A storm seems to animate the electrical currents that naturally course though our bodies without which our very hearts would cease to beat.
Once all is settled, the kids and I will pour a cool drink and sit on the front porch measuring the distance of the storm. We use the age old and scientifically proven chant: "one alligator... two alligator..." - maybe you know it?
Speaking of the beasts, they will be off to pinata making camp next week - which is great because after making fairy tipis to cap off our summer study of the Aboriginal Peoples of the Plains - I'm plum out of crafty ideas!
Here is the delicate structure of flowers, twigs and leaves that a curious squirrel or the kind of storm I've been referring to will blow to absolute smithereens. And there's the thing. Even though I know that a lightning strike can be devastating and storm winds have proven highly dangerous in our area of late - I still eagerly anticipate the cooling rain and the wind at the back of my neck.
Storms speak to my internal need to just let go and allow any emotional build up or frustration fly away for a few hours. We have to wait out the storm shower and witness the powers of forces beyond our control. Like a farmer's field, some ideas and thoughts get overworked in our minds. It's always wise to give over to nature a bit. We know that when lightning strikes it brings with it renewal for the soil allowing new growth.
I love the summer. The kids roast marshmallows, catch lightning bugs in a jar, sleep outside in the tent and eat the oreo creams into the shapes of the moon in the sky. It's our time to "lighten" up which is the source of the word lightning. Each fiery flash lightens our surroundings but just enough to glimpse our next steps and formulate an idea of a pathway forward. Never enough to fully light our way.
This is why a thunderstorm is never the time to strike out on a major journey. It's a time to retreat and to take stock. The lazy and hazy will soon enough be replaced by the urge to learn and explore. For now, sweet graces like a cool breeze, a frosted glass and a dark cloud to cover the over-hot afternoon sun are plenty.
I am Rebecca, creator of Juniper Glen Homeschool Consulting and Kinderhaus. Here I will share the beauty of each season through the eyes of childhood and a gentle approach to learning.