The Fury of a Storm
This has been a week of winter storms. Living on the top of a mountain, rain and wind have been raging outside for four days and four nights. Giant limbs have broken from our Redwoods, and even whole trees have uprooted and toppled. I have to admit it can get a little scary lying in bed at night listening to the slashing rain and howling wind. Because of the wind, the power has gone out several times. Thankfully I have a generator that automatically switches on when my power goes out. I had it installed several years ago after riding out a storm that left me without power and water for 10 days. Serious storms happen here every few years, it has been worse. The river floods which backs up all of the tributaries and there's water, water, everywhere. If you are wondering, the photo of the T-Rex is at a pee-wee golf course and the locals can gauge the depth of the Russian River flood waters by how deeply he is submerged. It is also telling that there is a guy in a kayak in front and behind him, you can see the roof of a flooded building.
Because I live where it rains a lot, I've written several "rainstorm" poems. Storms have an intensity that lends itself to the focused, condensed writing of poetry. Whether you've experienced snowstorms, rainstorms, hurricanes, tornadoes or tsunamis, storms can inspire powerful images. Here are a few "storm poems" I've come across, all in the public domain.
The Snow Storm
Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o’er the fields,
Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air
Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven,
And veils the farmhouse at the garden’s end.
The sled and traveler stopped, the courier’s feet
Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit
Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed
In a tumultuous privacy of storm.
Come see the north wind’s masonry.
Out of an unseen quarry evermore
Furnished with tile, the fierce artificer
Curves his white bastions with projected roof
Round every windward stake, or tree, or door.
Speeding, the myriad-handed, his wild work
So fanciful, so savage, nought cares he
For number or proportion. Mockingly,
On coop or kennel he hangs Parian wreaths;
A swan-like form invests the hidden thorn;
Fills up the farmer’s lane from wall to wall,
Maugre the farmer’s sighs; and, at the gate,
A tapering turret overtops the work.
And when his hours are numbered, and the world
Is all his own, retiring, as he were not,
Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished Art
To mimic in slow structures, stone by stone,
Built in an age, the mad wind’s night-work,
The frolic architecture of the snow.
~~ Ralph Waldo Emersion 1803-1882
And a few of my own:
I ran across this quote recently, "Good writing is supposed to evoke sensation in the reader - not the fact that it is raining, but the feeling of being rained upon." ~~E. L. Doctorow. Very appropriate advice for today's theme. What storms have you encountered that could inspire you? Add them to this thread, I'd love to read them.
~~ Stay dry, Tinker
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