Thunder Storms

It's hard to put a baby to sleep in a thunder storm. Around 7:00 last night, a violently beautiful thunder storm rolled through town, treating us to a long overdue auditory smorgasborg. Loud booming thunder that shook the house, crackling thunder that sounded as though the sky was being torn apart, gentle rumbling thunder that built into a crescendo of sound. For half an hour, maybe longer, the lightning flashed, illuminating the darkened rooms upstairs, while the gods improvised a percussive concerto. Angie listened to each peal of thunder with interest, but no fear. And then, as the thunder died away, moving to distant shores, my baby drifted off to sleep.