It is a sweltering day that melts into a warm quiet night. My sister and I go swimming downtown. We alternate taking turns jumping off of the dock into the lake. The water is refreshing on the skin after the muggy oppressive day. The evening is dark, and thunder threatens in the distance, rolling over the picturesque hills of the Monadnock Region. My sister and I cut our swim short, opting for the relative safety of my car.
“Come out at look at this.”
Dad calls to us as we come through the door. We drop our sweaters and kick off cheap flip flops. As Sarah melts into her nightly routine, I make my way out onto the deck. Tonight, the wind is up, and the leaves kick around restlessly. In the background, the crickets hum in unison creating a sweet undertone to the approaching storm. Even without the thunder, you can tell a storm is coming. The Forrest is dark and silent. All of the animals have gone to hide. The night is quiet and all one can hear is the crickets. A single bird calls out and its cry echoes in the dark before silence falls again.
Dads on the back deck his neck craned. His face gazing up towards the heavens. He is gazing up at the clouds. I take a a position next to him and stare up too. In quiet solitude we gaze up. I am here partly because I want to see what has his attention, but mostly just wanting to be near my Dad.
The clouds are riled up. The upper layer dark and menacing,while lower clouds fly by at breathtaking speeds. They move around each other in a intricate dance. Simultaneously they show natures beauty and power. Clouds that dart behind trees before we can even gauge their shape or size.
Dad and I stand here as silent witnesses, gazing up towards the heavens, with wide open eyes and consciousness. Taking in the spectacle in full and trying to make sense of it.
“Its almost like mixing paint,” Dad says not even looking away.