We'll also say for the record that everyone calling me (all 3 of you, really) right as I was finally getting comfy in the stages of falling asleep didn't help much! On the downside, none of the business related calls I need to have happen have come in yet. I'll go beat people's heads in if I don't hear by the end of the week. Back to the narrative at hand.
When I finally was dragged from consciousness by the phone (hrm) and showered, shaved, etc, and on my way to work...I realized I actually really want to take a car trip. I want to stretch her legs a bit, and I miss being out in unfamiliar territory. But the wanderlust can also be blamed on the storm...
There's something about them, something that thrills. It's not just the storm either. It's the entire cycle. I sit here at work and can't really concentrate (good thing there's not much to do tonight) and I keep looking out at the window at the sheen of wet on the world and remembering the smell of it, the feel of the air on my skin both as I drove and as I walked and how the world seems so much more right in moments like these than it normally does.
(Aside: WTB wireless connection and company laptop/phone connections so I can do my job from the pond or something. ;)
I was walking through work to get something I printed when someone's screen saver caught my attention. It had pictures of various places all over the world and I just stood and watched the entire cycle, marveling. I've made mention here in this journal about the scale of the universe and how it humbles and awes but also how our knowledge and views of it can be thought of as a great triumph of our very natures. That it can signify all the greatness we can accomplish and all the beauty we can muster in the simple observance of our own world. But why go so far as the universe? From coastal skyscrapers, the night sky forgotten under the blaze of electric lights and flashing neon caught single stroke by the eye of a photographer to the grandeur of a cliff covered in a greenery that has no hand of man attached...There is awe here too.
The world as I know it is still now, the wind has died down, and the wet lays heavy on the selfsame world. But inside I'm not still, as if the wind still is inside me, the smell driving some part of me to distraction. It's speaking to me, even if I'm not entirely sure what it is saying.
Maybe it's just saying that there's more need to my soul than this technological construct I've given it. Maybe that's it. But I hope I find out. And when I do? I bet I'll find this smell right there along with it.