When Cliff left for work at 2:30, it had been muggy all day... sticky-hot. But there was thunder in the distance, and a darkening sky. Although it appeared to be moving north of me, I decided to take the dog and the camera, and head to my cabin for awhile, hoping to see what it's like back there in a thunderstorm. Cliff had dropped off a small pile of nicely aged firewood for future campfires, so I neatly stacked that. It's really too dry for a campfire, until we get some rain. But I like to be prepared. I got a Wal Mart bag and gathered up dry sticks to use for kindling, and put them on a shelf in the cabin... in the event it's wet when I want a fire. I also put a couple of the sticks of the firewood inside.
Mandy spends a lot of time just gazing intently into the woods, as though she senses something there. As I sat with her on the porch, I looked up to see our five resident turkey vultures. They were flying low enough to get Mandy's attention. Vultures are hideous things close-up, but the way they soar and float in the sky above you is a work of art. One of them paused in mid-air for several seconds, magically floating on a current.
I spent an hour or so at the cabin before the walk home, which takes under fifteen minutes (of course I walk slowly). Every time I visit there, whether to spend the night (as I did last night), or just to escape for an hour or two, I have the most unbelievable feeling of peace. Old hymns come to mind that I hadn't thought of for years, and I sing them to myself. There's no computer, no television, and no neighborhood kids making noises outside the window to distract me. I get in touch with my soul again and realize how much we miss, being so civilized.
Oh, I didn't get my storm while I was there. Sprinkles. That was it. As I write this, it looks a bit more promising. But I think I'll stay here.