2:15 p.m. Run to the Water

And as quick as that, I've this sudden compulsion to run to the water. I wish it could be the Chesapeake, salt water, water wide and deep with the tang of salt and wind and weather. I will ask Jb for that tonight, to take me to the water this weekend. Great Falls, somewhere. Water calms and centers me the way few things do. I don't know why that is, but I need it.

There was water last night of a different kind: a storm that sparked from the heat in the air. Only thunder and lightning for the longest time. Jb went out to smoke and watch it coming on. I've been trying to cut back, so I stayed in, but it was brilliant enough for Jb to come get me. 10 p.m. and we're sitting under the awning on the steps of the house, watching the wind whip up the trees, following the lightning strikes in the sky, counting out the thunder, and I lean against his shoulder and remember why it is I love him. We stay like that until the clouds finally let loose with large plops of raindrops that almost instantly leave you soaked. I still feel numb and withdrawn, but nature is large enough, for a brief moment, to flutter up a memory of wonder and awe.