My mother has a rather strange aversion. It’s not a stereotypical one, like fearing rodents, or freaking out over spiders, but one that filled her with dread for more than a decade: She cannot enter the women’s locker room at her old golf club.
Yesterday, we were caught out in a rather violent storm in Sydney. It was a great experience, watching the storm unleash its fury a little closer than I usually would.
I feel so serene. We just had a most amazing thunderstorm here in San Francisco. We usually get regular old rain, so a thunderstorm is really rare. A welcome change. [Source] We switched everything off to watch the sheets of lightning illuminate the buildings, with its low, rolling accompaniment. We watched the rain splatter and slide down our windows. We talked. Listened to Royksopp. Spent some it it dancing in the dark. Embraced the moment. And it felt great. Real. I used to enjoy watching storms do that all the time at home. Sydney has some of the most amazing storms. So active and highly entertaining. I love their rejuvenating nature: they cleanse our environment, allowing us to start afresh. I never knew I missed that about home until now. [Source] *** Welcome to the forty-fourth post of the Great Writing Challenge of 2012. Five days a week for six months, I will be given a topic to write about. The stipulation: it must be 250 words (or more), and positive in tone. If you …
The Rebecca Project 