The hissing and the howling has not let up.
It’s been coming and going for days now and although the rainy season is here, the abrupt pounding of the wind and sudden downpour of rain and then a sudden halt and still many repeat performances thereafter within the day is quite strange.
I don’t normally have a problem sleeping through downpour but this time around the symphony performing outside my window has been unusually chaotic and messy and unnerves me.
I pulled out an old DVD of Little House on the Prairie. The Ingalls family was celebrating Christmas in the dead of winter.
I remember as a child how I used to love watching this series. The minute I heard the opening music and ran down the hallway toward the television just like Laura did running down the mountain hill.
Her smile and her innocence painted a pretty picture of what summer was like in open field.
I’d sit glued to the television and imagine what my life would be like out in the wilderness. Simple and uncomplicated, free and easy, I always thought.
That show never ran out of love. Ma and Pa were always so gentle and kind around their children. It was rare to see anyone break into an outburst.
Abundant love flowed and went around in an endless happy circle.
It’s quiet again this early morning. I wonder what it is about stormy weather that seems to play louder at night?
Could it be my hearing that intensifies when darkness falls?