Last summer, Gwen and I went up to our family cabin (Twin Fir Haven) on Powell Lake with my parents. It was an absolutely lovely trip ... so peaceful, just the four of us, and so wonderful watching Gwen and my parents spending time together and enjoying each other.
One night I woke up at some unknown time (no digital clocks at the cabin) and lay in the darkness next to Gwen. Rain poured on the metal roof, unimaginably loud. Suddenly brightness slashed across my vision. Lightning? When was the last time I'd seen lightning? One-one thousand, two-one thousand ... a few seconds later the crash of thunder. Gwen slept on beside me. It felt like I was the only one witnessing this immense display of nature's power.
Another flash of lightning, this time with thunder closer on its heels. The storm was getting closer. Having watched more than my fair share of DVD special features and behind the scenes footage, I recognized that actually, thunder does sound EXACTLY like sheet metal being shaken. The rain was deafening. Another crash, this one long and, well, thunderously loud. Did the cabin actually shake, or was it just an effect of the air pressure rapidly shifting? Gwen stirred and softly whimpered but still didn't wake - I stroked her hair to soothe her and she fell back into a deep sleep. The storm started to move on - thunder followed lightning a little bit more distantly now, and the crashes were quieter. And suddenly the rain ceased, as swiftly and efficiently as if someone had turned off a faucet. Moments later, it felt like I had imagined the entire storm. And like Gwen, I rolled over, snuggled in, and went back to sleep.