Robert (gurdonark) wrote,
Robert
gurdonark

dread and love

all week I've been dreading the fact that the glorious weekday weather was to dissolve into weekend thunderstorms...now the thunder is rumbling, the lightning is flashing, and I'm entranced....I remember a recurrring childhood dream of tornado approaching...at the baseball field I'd eat my home-made hotdog from the concession stand, and dark clouds would threaten, the rumble, the exhilirating freight train sound...in real-life, when I was living in Little Rock during law school, a storm blew up while I was in my apartment reading...during a curious lull I looked out my second story doorway of my little apartment in the ravine...above my head was the dark, beautiful funnel of a tornado...I felt the surge of fear appropriate to the situation, thought quickly how the complex had no really good place to go to be more secure,
picked up my book, got under something, and waited.
Later, it turned out that 2 very small tornados had landed, one a few blocks on my left, one a few blocks on my right,
it was all much more beautiful than frightening, but I don't have any of that "live in danger" desire for risk...a cousin
once told the joke of when we were travelling in France and I declined to run to catch a metro train pulling away
from us....putting on a drawl that was his best impression of my Arkansas accent, he quoted me as saying something like "I'm 28 years old now, and I didn't get to that age by taking risks like running after trains"....when the 1994 Northridge quake hit, I leaped up in the early dawn hours,
heading for the door jamb as if by reflex...it was a bit scary, but as I watched the walls of my apartment sway and buckle, I felt a sort of "what happens, happens", and worried much more about my dog (who was, naturally,
in a safe place as soon as I was) than about myself (fortunately, my wife was visiting a friend in Santa Cruz).
when the quake was over, we'd not been badly hit, but I remember walking Westwood Boulevard, looking at smashed store windows, buying a Gata cake from the little middle eastern market that was virtually the only thing open...
life is such a gift and stark events help me remember...
thunderstorms swirl me in a beauty I don't understand but treasure.
Subscribe
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

  • 2 comments