The Storm

The wind is picking up, and I can taste the storm in the air.  I love these moments.  As the wind slowly increases, I walk out from the porch and into the front yard. Aspen is beside me, just a step in front, leading the way.  When I reach the middle of the front yard where I can look out at the ponds and pasture across the old wrought-iron fence, I stop moving while Aspen continues exploring the area around us.  She’s looking for traces of any small, woodland creature careless enough to wander into her territory.  Satisfied or disappointed, I can’t tell which, Aspen stops sniffing around and settles in an graceful sitting position inches from my legs.  I look down at her as she looks up at me with one eye of darkest black and the other eye of palest blue.  Her tongue rolls out, and her tail wags slightly.1

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I look from her to the ponds and pastures watching the wind dance across the water and cause the long grass of the pasture to sway.  The surface of the pasture undulates in shades of green showing the individual gusts of wind.  The storm is getting closer.  All the other sounds of nature hush as the voice of the wind strengthens, and, then, the sky flashes bright in the distance and rumbles with the sound of thunder.  It is getting darker.  The atmosphere around me feels so alive.  I’m not afraid.  I trust the wolf in Aspen far more than I trust me.  She’ll know when it’s time to go inside.3

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I close my eyes and spread my arms letting the wind whip around my body.  It is strong enough now to support some of my weight as I lean into it.  The scent of loblolly pine from the stand across the pasture fills my sense of smell.  I can hear the crashing of their branches as they sway more and more violently.  This will be a powerful storm.  As if to emphasize this sudden realization, everything becomes brighter behind my closed eyelids and a peal of thunder explodes around me.  The sound is so powerful I can feel the shock waves resonating throughout my body.  The first slight drops of rain touch my skin gently, such a soft kiss.  5

 I feel the slightest pressure of the back of my knee as Aspen nudges me with her nose.  I sigh quietly and open my eyes.  My hand reaches down, and I scratch her behind the ears for a moment. She hops up and takes the lead when I turn around and head back inside. I smile to myself for Aspen is one step ahead but always by my side.     6