Today was stormy. Thunder. Lightning. Rain. Scared the cat kind of stormy. A nice little reminder of where human beings are in the scheme of things.

The thunder was loud, like trucks crashing head-on overhead. The cat, taken by surprise, arched her back, hissed and ran for the safety of the space under the bed. The rain falls slowly at first. Big, fat drops, embraced by trees, and gutters and down pipes.

It is not a commonly held view, but I like storms. They calm me. When nature is wreaking damage in the suburbs, lifting roofs, downing trees, flooding creeks, I sit quietly inside the darkened day and watch and listen. I listen to the sound and I listen to the quiet.

Have you noticed that an imminent storm silences the birds? And when it passes, the birds resume their songs and chatter? It is almost like the hush is an homage, an acknowledgement of a greater power. They know.

A storm is nature’s way of showing us that we are not in charge. Not like we think we are. We have yet to control weather. And I bet, even with all money we pour into technology and science and innovation, we never do. The planet is in charge. Not us. Not now. Not ever.

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