One of the things that I miss living out here in the West is a good ol' Northern Maine rainstorm (complete with thunder and lightning). Yes, I have seen rainstorms, there are plenty during our summers in Montana and most of the time they end with an out-of-this-world rainbow that seems to stretch the length of the world, so thick you can't see through the colors and making everyone who takes the time to look up to the sky ~ happy.
I spent a week in Missoula during the cross-country roadtrip in 1997 that led to my decision to move here, and I remember seeing more rainbows that week than I had seen in my entire lifetime. I thought the place was magic then, and I still do.
Montana storms are altogether a different kind than I remember as a kid, though.
Growing up in Northern Maine my Grammy & Grampy Folsom had a camp on East Grand Lake that I spent many long childhood summer days with my sister, brothers, cousins, Mom and the Aunties (while the Dads were at work). The rainstorms that blew over the lake were so amazing to watch as a kid.
You can "feel" the storms first. The dramatic drop in temperature, the slight breeze picking up to a wind, the tell tale black curtain of rain...this almost "sheet" of rain falling on the lake... getting closer and closer. Mom and her sisters and us kids scramble to collect the hot starchy towels off the clothes line, the small chairs, belongings, books, and magazines they had while sitting on the porch. We all pile into the tiny camp to watch and wait.
As the first big raindrops slap down on the porch you see steam rise from the wood, super heated from the sun. You can almost "hear" "tssss" "tssss" "tssss" as the cold drops fall. Then, you can "smell" it. That certain smell of the water mixing with the wood in the steam rising off the porch. Everything that was hot and wet has a certain smell that cannot be described but is etched somewhere in my memory. Then you are engulfed by water and rain on the windows and darkness, a grey-purpley darkness...
You can't help but watch this amazing show through the two double sliding glass doors out to the lake. The lightning strike lights the sky temporarily and then we count... one, one thousand.. two, one thousand... three, one thou...BAM! a clap of thunder so loud you can feel it in your chest, and it shakes you to your absolute core.
I had a different kind of rainstorm this week. It happens every once in a while, and it helps me to re-appreciate all that is great in my life (which happens to be A LOT). From time to time I get overwhelmed by all the things I want to accomplish or try to plan with friends during the work week. I forget sometimes how difficult it is to juggle my little Astrid... I know it sounds silly, but this week, I simply wanted to get my hair cut (actually, I wanted to get it done, like, a week ago and had to cancel the appointment). You know how it is when you want your hair cut, right? You want it done yesterday! I am a little embarassed that I'm even writing about this, really, since I realize I sound like a total baby, now that I got through it and I feel 100% better.
I have no trouble getting to the trailhead, on a walk/run with Astrid on my back or in the stroller, and I have no trouble getting work done during Astrid's nap, but OH MY GOSH. I couldn't seem to freakin' get this HAIR cut! Anyway, last night there might have been a bit of a melt down, some tears shed, but I always feel better in the morning.
And I did.
I always feel better after the occasional rainstorm that has absolutely nothing to do with getting my hair cut... and everything to do with growing pains of being a mama.
And consequently... I wouldn't change a thing.
This is my favorite blog you've written yet. Summer thunderstorms are special...I love them, they make me feel like a child again, all excited and full of wonder.
And I understand about the hair, I had to make and cancel 4 hair appointments before I could get away from minding Ro- Ro and Seanie. It was like a tactical military operation trying to organize the logistics of it....
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