From a dream world I’m summoned back, awakened by a boom and a crash. A flash of light illuminates the room through the window shades. My cat rises, ears up, but he remains by my side. Seeking comfort or giving it? Lovely petrichor drifts in through the windows left open from the summer day. Then boom, crash, flash, and the rain comes down in a rushing torrent, like a waterfall from the sky. I listen to it, feeling like the world below me might flood, and my bed become a ship that sails me, not into dreams, but into a murky river. I lie there in the dark, counting “one Mississippi, two Mississippi” each time the thunder roars. Finally, it is over, and I sleep, dreaming of oceans and sandy beaches. I wake to the mockingbird’s song, and a day that is washed clean. Hope sparkles in the morning sun.
Spirits rage at night
crash and bang till washed away
in wonder, joy reigns
Nikolay Nikanorovich Dubovskoy [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
This is late entry for for dVerse.
I guess it’s a summer memory now, since it happened a couple of days ago. 🙂
Yesterday and today: Merril's historical musings 
I love that word, petrichor. And the painting is gorgeous too 🙂
Thanks. Someone posted a painting on FB that I’m going to use for something–maybe Colleen’s prompt. It’s a Winslow Homer painting. I think you’ll like it, too. 🙂
I do like some of his paintings. I used one of them last week.
Oh, I don’t remember. I’m behind on everyone’s posts.
And I post a lot 🙂
🙂
Nice description of the summer storm and the rain like a “waterfall from the sky”.
Thank you, Frank. That’s how it seemed to me–so much water seemed to be coming down, but it wasn’t windy like a nor’easter or hurricane.
You keep tempting with haibuns, Merril. I need to get on a smooth ground and then start trying them out. I don’t want to build them on this rocky pavement. Mom’s heart surgery MIGHT be mid-July, not positive yet.
Thank you so much, Luanne. I have an idea for a haibun collection. I really like them–like little stories and poetry combined.
Oh my–your mom! You must all be anxious. Thinking good thoughts for her–and you.
Thank you re mom. It’s all such a long process and in the meantime she can’t even get a dental treatment. A long haibun collection or a chapbook? I can’t wait to hear what the common thread, if any, will be.
Oh that must be so frustrating for your mom!
I’m kind of thinking of a haibun collection, but I don’t really know anything about this. . .still thinking about it. I have to get the rape books done first.
Rape books does sound kind of weird to just drop into conversation, doesn’t it? Happy weekend!
Hahahaha. I guess it does, but I’m so used to it, Luanne. My girls grew up with books about sex and rape in history lying about the house. Happy weekend to you, too!
A wonderful haibun with a good haiku at the end. I used to love those hot fast storms in the summer…one always got drowned running in from playing or coming in through the open window and screen – like a waterfall indeed! I’m sorry to hear about your mom and wish her well.
Thank you very much, Toni.
My mom is fine–almost 95 though, so. . .
How lovely. You make it feel like I’m there. There is something a bit enchanting about a summer storm at night. Glad you had your cat for comfort (and vice versa).
Thank you very much, Victoria!
Oh I do love counting in a thunderstorm – it evokes such a feeling (if you’re safe inside)
Thank you, Björn.
Yes, I agree, except I remember a scene, too, in a movie–Poltergeist?–where the little girl is counting during a thunderstorm. 🙂
So evocative of thunder storms in France
Thank you, Derrick. And New Jersey. 🙂
You don’t get storms like this?
Not really
I love the idea of the bed as boat. It reminds me of childhood thunderstorms at night. (K)
Thank you, Kerfe. Yes, I guess it is kind of a childhood image–Max and the Wild Things.
Childhood storms with a bit of adult sensibility. 🙂
I had to look up “petrichor.” Some people refer to it as an ozone smell. I wonder if they are the same thing.
Thanks, Marian. I love the word petriochor. Ozone doesn’t sound as pleasant. 🙂
Lovely – gentle yet strong – thanks Merril, quite quite lovely! I wonder what you would think of our highveld storms here in SA – they are truly terrifying. But oh! that smell of rain … and the build-up beforehand – still a way away for us – only in summer around mid October –
Thanks so much, Susan! I think I can live without truly terrifying storms. We’ve had thunderstorms that are scary enough. 🙂 Ours are usually in the summer, too, but sometimes they occur in other seasons. There is such a think as “thunder snow!”
We had a similar storm here although I doubt I could describe it as beautifully as you did. 🙂
Awww-thank you, Robin. 🙂
Loved every word! Raging spirits, indeed. I’m glad Ricky was inside safe and sound. Does he go out?
Thank you, Rose!
Our cats are strictly indoor cats. They’ve been enjoying the open windows this week. Mickey is an especially good watch cat. 🙂
We have storms like that, often at night, and the pacing of our border collie is as distressful as the thunder. One consolation is that her hearing is almost gone (these past six months), so she sleeps through most of those nights now. It just occurred to me that counting sheep might have helped her. 😉
Oh you’re funny, Ken. 🙂 We had a dog who was frightened of storms and fireworks. One of our cats used to be terrified, but now the storms don’t seem to bother him as much, unless there is a very loud thunderclap.
I really liked the way that you went from a slightly scared tone to a deep breath, “one Mississippi. . .” counting seconds between lightning bolt cracks! A bed transformed into a ship upon a murky river (the Mississippi 😉 ) made me relax a bit.
Your haibun was a sweet one with “wonder, joy reigns.”
I like how rains are unspoken and reigns is!
I learned a new word, was glad a few people may not have known it. (petrichor)
We had some hail not too long ago, Merril to add to the mid-west weather storms list! 🙂
Thank you so much, Robin. I’m glad you liked the unspoken rain and the voiced reign. 🙂 I remember hail in Dallas–Texas-sized! It broke a window in our house one time. It was terrifying!