Right now, after a very high heat index day (that’s how we talk about hot, humid days now), there’s a thunderstorm happening outside in the dark.
I missed the first hour of it. When I arrived home I took the day’s second shower, and then dinner. The air conditioning has been on, and music— distractions. So I’ve had only the barest awareness of this summer storm.
But the record just ended, and I let it end (though it’s not even really a record, but a stream, a subscription, which is how we talk about music now).
I let it end and the thunder sounds big and powerful, like the things we used to know from stories.
I love the things we used to know from stories, and I want to bring them back. Stories are the reason we ever made it this far— as individuals, and as a species. Stories are powerful, like thunder and lightning.
(A summer storm sounds like the world existing, as it does, with or without us.)