Happy Weekend Travellers,
If you had a rough week, then congratulations for making it here! Sometimes I feel like getting to the weekend is like swimming to a raft in the center of a turbulent body of water. Once you successfully reach it and drag yourself on top of the float it’s suddenly peaceful and then you look up and the skies are clear and blue. AND when you look back the waters have stilled themselves.
Enjoy every minute while you are here…
Last night, we had a storm for the ages. All the trimmings: thunder, lightening, raining like the sky was trying to wring every drop last drop onto us, abit of hail, winds…you get the picture. It was a spare no expense type downpour. I don’t know what time it was when it began, I was just suddenly jolted out of my deep sleep by the sounds of thunder and rain. There was an intermittent clicking on the windows that I’m pretty sure was hail. I’m not sure how long it went on, I very briefly opened my eyes, but it seemed like hours. Thankfully, it subsided somewhere along the way and I dozed off again.
Have you ever been laying there in the middle of a storm just listening to the loud drumming of the rain on the windows and the roof, the sound of the water gushing like a mad stream thru the gutters onto the ground, the tapping of hail and the wind blowing like the Big Bad Wolf who wanted to unhouse the Three Little Pigs wondering, how is my house going to survive this? How is it still standing? THAT is the storm I heard outside the walls of my warm little bedroom last night…
For me, the true tell tale of a severe storm is the sudden weight of Ramona jumping up into bed because she gets scared. She’s a brave girl, but thunder is her foe. After she lands on the mattress, she then proceeds to slowly scoot me across the bed in this little dance. She’ll get as close to me as possible, lie down and then I will scoot over abit because dogs are hot. Seriously, their body temperature is higher than ours and no one wants to sleep with a tiny furnace nestled into their side in the dead of summer. Ramona will follow me inch by inch, repositioning herself right up against me, over and over until I’m on the edge of the bed with nowhere else to go. It’s a forced surrender.
I always think about homeless animals and people when it storms. Just mere moments the thought always crosses my mind without fail. I realize many people and animals don’t have the good fortune of home. As I lie there in the dark, listening to nature doing it’s worst, I send out a small prayer to all those souls and their well being and hope they are safe, somehow, somewhere. I hope they find a pocket of dry warmth to survive in. I also send out my gratitude to the universe, that the five of us are here in this place. We are most fortunate and should always remember that.
I can’t imagine what that must feel like to not have a home to shelter you from the elements much less conditions like this. The thought makes my heart flutter with a sort of fear and sadness. There is sanctuary and safety in a home unlike anywhere else to me. I’m sure I’ve said that before. Despite the fact that I am now the sole bipedal creature in my house, I still call it this home “ours” because of the four furry souls that reside here with me. I’m always glad we found each other because they are safe and I think shelter and safety is something all life seeks in the deepest recesses of their being. Especially during inclement conditions.
And I always think of one little soul in particular, Mopsy, whom I haven’t mentioned in a very long time. I think of her almost everyday, obviously because I come here and that’s her in my banner. I hope she is well out in the world. I hope she is finding her way and is safe from harm. I miss her like no one else I’ve ever known. It literally makes my eyes and heart well up just typing words about her. Even now.
I remember one of the earliest nights I let her into our home was in the midst of a downpour. She was at the front door meowing with a sad desperation to be let in. So I did, and despite the fact I gave her a towel, she chose to shake off the rain and then proceeded to sleep on the couch in the front room . A stranger in a strange house. I always hoped that our house was a reprieve for her from the world she had been left out in. Even if she couldn’t stay here forever, I just hope she remembers the time she had with me in the same sort of warm glow of how I remember her.
I like to imagine her safe, last night and every night. My world is better believing she is still out there somewhere.
And when the morning comes, the sun rises and rolls back it’s bed linens of clouds to illuminate the world. I conjure up the image of her out exploring the puddles, pawing the downed branches and random debris delighted by what she finds. Just like the ladies in the backyard, surveying the damage and relieved to see the world is was fact, not blown away by the Big Bad Wolf, but it’s still here.
No matter the storm, no matter the damage, we all awake each day to find the world is still waiting for us, still standing. We are still here.