A change in the weather causes an alert on my metabolism. The very thought of rain coming our way, excites me with wonder and the urge for cooking! It is that rush to take off the washing on the line, hiding the things out of harm's way, making that telephone call to say pancake is on the way... C'mon over!
The latest health curse has a severe impact on our natural longing to connect with others. The first rumbling sound of thunder always sparks some sort of an alert, followed by that split second decision of what to do next. Waiting...
In my childhood, I was often lost in my own imagination of constructing stories around sounds and other tactile triggers. Thunder was the clashing king ruling over the dark skies speaking for the quiet voiceless ones. He was the Robin Hood of the sky, the giver and the protector.
The rhythm of the raindrops intensifies with each puffing sound on the fibre glass rooftop of my enclosed balcony. The rain cleanses. It disinfects the heavy thoughts of the disease which claimed so many innocent lives. The sound of thunder and rain, lifts our spirits and recharges our batteries to digest yet another day of the grim statistics of the Corona virus.
The world needs a clean slate. Thunder tastes good!
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