Thursday, May 7, 2009

The Lightening Rod


I'm standing on the weathered, splinter-filled dock. Listening to the sounds of hurried motors traveling across the unsettled water. Thunder in the distance. A warning to all. Get off the lake. The waves, rolling into shore, cleansing the tawny, sandy beach. They have frothy, bubbling tips, sliding in like a surfer catching the big wave. The metallic smell of ozone fills the air as the loons cry for their mates across the lake. Taking flight from a pine tree hanging low over the water, the Great Blue Heron. Long legs trailing behind, making sounds like an old saw cutting through thick wood. His displeasure obvious to all around him. Another roll of deep, undulating thunder. Closer this time. A fishing boat rocks up to the dock, fighting against the steel blue waves. The sky churning up dark gray clouds, filled with anticipation.

The first soft raindrops fall, giving the lake a much needed sip of fresh water. Like teardrops from an angry sky. The lake reacts by forming small circles, opening it's mouth for a refreshing drink.

Fishing poles, tackle box, depth finder and trolling motor. Out of the boat, avoiding the left over remains of a duck's last dinner. The fisherman, still in his boat. Talking of the approaching storm. More boats racing by to get to the safety of shore. Everyone knows that in a storm, a boat in the water is like a potato in a deep fryer. Thunder means lightening.

The look of fear crosses the fisherman's face. "Run!" he says. I look confused, but at the same instant feel a tingling sensation. "Your hair is standing on end!" he cries. He is out of the boat and running with me through the wet grass to the cabin in the woods up the hill. Fishing equipment forgotten as the adrenaline rush of fear moves our bodies, while the crashes of thunder vibrate our eardrums.

In the cabin, safely looking out the window towards the lake. Sheets of rain moving across the lake. Lightening striking the forest beyond.

The storm moves on quickly. Fresh dirt, grass smell, birds beginning to chirp.

I'm standing on the weathered, splinter-filled dock.

12 comments:

The cottage by the Cranelake said...

Wonderful written!
Loved it!
Christer.

Rabbit Hill Farm said...

beautiful

Happy Days said...

I loved it!! I loved it!! I could just feel the urgency of the fisherman to get out of the water - I could smell the ozone and feel the rain as it beat down on you...that was simply GREAT!! You have a Gift Barb!!! I want to ask you about Lizzie before I forget. When is her baby actually due?? Leave me a message here, I'll come back and look for it...debbie

Barb and Steve said...

Thanks!
Debbie...they are trying to get her to go until June 10th. That's when the baby should be okay to deliver. The Amish never know for sure when there due dates are :-)

angie said...

Hi Barb,

A wonderfully creative piece.

Happy Days said...

Oh my goodness...that is a month away...I thought it might be soon in may!...holy cow. Good thing I picked up some cards for her today...deb

Barb and Steve said...

Deb...you are so nice for doing that. I know she enjoys them.

Happy Days said...

Barb, I sent her a package today along with a letter. I had 2 packs of drawing paper, one coloring book with hardly any words, 2 packs of crayons, a set of colored pencils and a 6 pack of little white creepers and 4 neat bibs with farm animals on them. I hope she won't mind. I love buying baby stuff. She should get it in a few days. Let me know if she thought everything was ok. I don't want to do something against their ways...deb

Sue said...

Woderful...I could close my eyes and imagine being there.

Barb and Steve said...

Debbie...I don't think she'll be able to use the bibs...everything they use is plain & dark colors. I'm sure she will find someone who can use them though and appreciates the thought. Thank you for sending them.
Sue...I was the lightening rod so it was easy to convey the details!

Joanie Hoffman said...

wow, nicely done, like being there, but safer.
happy days,
Joanie

Midlife Jobhunter said...

I love the dock. And the serenity. If you want a real lake, you have to head north. We try where I live, but... nothing lke a real lake.