Relámpago

A never-ending rumble. Like a jet continuously circling La Latina. Flashes of light and the sputter of rain.

It's been going on now for about thirty minutes. Almost constant lightening and thunder above with long forks of lightening illuminating the entire sky. The rumble has quieted but the lightening is no less frequent. The rain pours down, hopefully washing some of the dog residue from the sidewalks.

I don't think I've ever been so close to a thunderstorm for so long. It seems so unnatural to have a thunderstorm in the city and it makes me feel exposed. Nowhere to hide. (Wow! That one was a whopper!) These old buildings are lower than the church spires, and I suppose that's some comfort. Usually I'm not afraid of lightening and thunder, but I suppose it's normal to be more shaken in a new place.

The bolts are getting longer and more intricate. Arching across the sky in dancing patterns. Sirens are wailing across town. Some of the bolts are like shredded steel wool--detatched and erratic. The more intricate the bolts become, the softer the rumble following. Now both are fairly infrequent and I feel that I might be able to get to sleep. The familiar sloshing of cars on wet streets is like a lullaby to my Pacific Northwestern ears. Someone is singing off key down the street and the gutters are still splashing rain. The lightning now a faint spark in the northern sky.

Whew!