Thunder and Lightning

Thunder and Lightning

This place is neither wilderness nor urban wasteland. Its in the space between. But its a haven for birds all the same.

Looking out of the viewing holes out of this hide is like looking out of a gunner's bunker. The quasi-industrial landscape of shingle, shrubbery, rusting metal and crumbling concrete is like a battleground. The thunder storm lighting up the sky ahead of me is the distant exchange of fire in a war that isn't happening.

I am being treated to a light show. A bolt reaches all the way from heaven to earth.

As the sun sets some way on the other side of the storm, insects are multiplying around me. Flying, crawling. Will the army of spiders and their traps be enough to guard me against the invading mosquitoes?

I see the lighting. Four bolts seem to come at once. A four lane motorway of electrons. Then I hear the thunder; hear the birds calling out, seeking shelter. I smell the rain coming. And I feel the air move in waves - warm and moist.

The sun has given way to the moon and it is in radiant mood. I catch a glimpse through my viewing hole. Stare at it for a few moments; just enough to conceive of what it is I am looking at: a celestial satellite formed after a prehistoric crash between a stranger and our home planet.

Just then, the clouds close like curtains and the moment is gone. I'm back down to Earth.

Knowing a river

Knowing a river

The sky, the woods and the moss

The sky, the woods and the moss