The Majesty of Storms

Last night, as I was driving home, it started to sprinkle. I love rain.

When I got home, I did the minimal familial duties that were required of me, and then retreated to the front porch, with a cold beer and Walt Whitman. I sat on the stoop (under the eaves) and listened to the gentle pitter patter of the rain, until the sky opened up. Massive sheets of rain, lightning bolts, claps of thunder, the rainwater running like a river in the streets.

It was an awesome display of the effortless majesty of God.

The beer was pretty good, too.