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03/15/2012

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Linda C

The road to the heart is on the return
Not in the setting out
Or in pursuit
Knocking on doors
With endless lists of questions

The road to the heart is on the return
Ready to rest
Receptive, calm
In absence of agitation
Love flows

Like monsoon rains that
Follow rumbled thunder
The Self fills the open heart
Spills over, splashes puddles
Consciousness at play

Laura A Eschbaugh

The weather broadcast is not always accurate!

We- meaning my husband bought a 40' Pierson sailboat for us to retire on- left Holland, Michigan our mornining sky colored brillant crimson. NOAH said we would have 10 to 15 knots of wind NE, waves 1 to 2 feet. (That old adage red skies at dawn sailors beware - is right.)

This was our first summer as full time sailors. My husband was raised in Kansas and I still to this day don't understand why he chose sailing as his retirement hobby- what the hay- I'm game. We had three objectives for the summer, sail across the lake, sail over night and sail in bad weather. We were going to St. Joseph, Michigan to visit some friends and it was our first excursion for the season. We were not looking to accomplish any of our goals.

My husband decided to experiment with the sails and but in a reef point - which lessens the area of the main sail. We were clear of land and I noticed to the west, there were some 'funny dark clouds.' I got out my weather book, turning to the broadcast to see if conditions were changing. We live in Michigan and I knew how fast the weather can go sour. NOAH had not changed its forecast from the 6am report. We pulled out the jib and set off, quickly hitting 7 knots, and loving it. At our current speed, we would make St. Joe before dinner.

OK- now things start getting hinky. Our clear sunny day turned into a cloudy rain shower and the 2'waves were braking over the bow of the boat.

We have an older boat— so— our dingy was tied to the front deck at the bow over our front hatch. We have never sailed in anything over 20 knots of wind, or seas over three feet.
We have a wind generator with a magnetic break which stop it in winds up to 30mph, after that it is in a free spin state- not creating electricity.
To bring down our main sail one of us has to go to the mast and lower it.

We hustled into our rain gear and decided that being heeled to the port side rail was a little to adventuresome so we 'tried to turn into the wind and pull in the jib. Now the waves are breaking over the bow to our dodger. The wind generator sounds like a firkin jet plane and I am soaked through to my unmentionables. My husband was working the sheets and giving me a lesson on trimming sails while I was trying to steer the boat and start our engine. Now my husband is yelling at the top of his lungs "steer into the wind."

We almost had the jib furled when both sheet lines snapped their shackles, leaving 3' flapping in the wind. One of the ties on the dingy let loose and it was up on its side acting like a sail. My husband struggled to the bow and got it tied down, all the while I am praying he wouldn't wash over board. The rain is falling in thick heavy cold drops, visibility poor, and I can see no place to run.

He is back in the cockpit and what we thought was a loud crack of thunder- way to close- turned out the turnbuckle on our traveler - main sail and boom swing out port side then crack— swings back to the other side- barely missing my head. My husband got a hold of the reef lines and is holding the boom with main sail still up as I try to pull us into the wind.
Water is filling the cockpit. We get the boom jury-rigged and my husband crawled out on deck, dropping the sail. The rain let up a smidge at this point and I am thinking - OK— now what.
I looked to the west, and a long roll of angry, roiling, dark clouds was approaching fast. I looked at my husband and asked if we should call the Coast Guard ( someone should know where to look for our bodies)>
His response was 'hell no— we can do this. What else can go wrong?'
The storm came over us dropping cold pelting rain in unrelenting curtains and a visually horrifying display of lightening. I can't say the thunder was deafening because the wind and waves made shouting impossible. I ignored the water coming down on us, both of us fighting to keep Cool Hand into the wind.
Then it was done----- no wind-----no rain-----no waves
We were facing a flat gray horizon- my husband looking like a huge yellow drowned goony bird and I was a bright red one.
So— what else could possibly go wrong now....
All the water over the bow went down the anchor locker and into the bilge and the bilge pump wasn't working- we had water up to the floor, main cabin soaked, and we were 10 miles from land.

Even with three major equipment failures, Cool Hand brought us to South Haven. We took turns hand pumping water overboard the whole way. I had bruises up and down my legs and arms and stood for over thirty minutes in a hot shower. We learned later, winds were clocked at 60 mph and the waves were 10 to 12'- a little off from the forecast :(
I have no idea how long we were out in the storm. We left Holland at 6:30am and arrived in South Haven around 4PM. For a while, I felt time standing still, and the universe was only water— trying to drown us.
It took a day to get parts and fix our boat and we continued on to St. Joe to meet our friends. The rest of the summer offered us other adventures, comical, weather relate- two more storms, and various other nautical small mishaps- but I will never forget that storm and from now on, we turn back at 'funny dark clouds.'
PS - Cool Hand has been refitted, and will go in the water May 1..... Fair winds and a following sea

ellie

Heart Song
Rain in my heart
on the day we came undone.
Torrents of tears
as we went our separate ways.

The water’s edge at the little lake
calmed rushing waves of grief
until the rain stopped.

And I
too broken to cry anymore
let peace wash over me
‘til the next thought of you.

ellie

the story of sailing in the storm was frightful. i could almost feel what you described even though i do not sail. you are certainly adventerous to keep on sailing.

Karen Bayly

Revere
All
In
Nature

Revolt
Against
Injustice
Now

Run
Away
Into
Night

Kathy K

“Hey, how are you guys doing? We just lost our power.”

“We’re just sitting here watching the rain. At least the wind hasn’t started yet. That’s the part of the hurricane that really freaks me out. I can’t stand listening to the wind, you know, the moaning and creaking, the trees scraping the house. It makes me really anxious. Isn’t that crazy?”

I sat in the corner of the sofa with the phone in my hand and a book on my lap as the rain came in waves against the window behind me. Hurricane Irene was making its way up the coast on the Weather Channel and every other channel. Landfall was predicted sometime during the night, somewhere on the Jersey shore. We had made all the necessary hurricane preparations – loose items off the deck, planters snugged against the house, table umbrella in the basement, chairs lashed against the railing, birthday cake and candles (it was Lou’s birthday the next day and we were prepared!)

“Maybe I’d better make some dinner in case we lose our lights. God, I hate electric stoves! At least you can light yours with a match. Ok, let me go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Tell Lou Happy Birthday.”

“Will do. Bye”

I got up and put some water in a pot and set it to boil. I started chopping up some veggies for a tuna casserole, our comfort food. I was just about to put the noodles in the boiling water when ZZzzzt! The TV dies; the refrigerator whines off, every tiny glowing lcd light in the house goes dark. Lou gathered the flashlights and I pulled out the candles. I turned off the cold stove.

Then the wind started.

Anne

Maryland, hot August rain
you feel sticking on your skin
well before the skies open with
crackling and roaring of cousin
thunderstorm. Its a big one
when mom forbids baths and
NEVER touch the phone
as the lectricity will git you...

East Indonesia under corrugated
tin, with drops as big
as the B-52 cockraches in
your room, hailing down like
machine gun fire. Deafened and
shocked by the torrent, birds of
Paradise and volcanic lakes
lost in thought and its
you, a warm Bintang beer and
growling heavens.

In a Typhoon, the line between
rain and sea spray is blurred
with 40ft waves,
washing machine portholes
and flying pianos. THoughts are
not about rain but
"which way to shore, and will
I make it in the dark?"

Jocelyn Brown

RAIN

Rattled
Arms
Invite
Nurturance

Radiant
Ambivalence
Injects
Nostalgia

Refreshing
Air
Invades
Nervousness

Repeal
Animosity
In
Numbness

Roundup
Animals
In
Numbers

Rivulets
Awash
In
Newness

Romp
Around
In
Nature

Replete
Abundance
In
Nightclothes

Jocelyn Brown

RAIN

Rattled
Arms
Invite
Nurturance

Radiant
Ambivalence
Injects
Nostalgia

Refreshing
Air
Invades
Nervousness

Repeal
Animosity
In
Numbness

Roundup
Animals
In
Numbers

Rivulets
Awash
In
Newness

Romp
Around
In
Nature

Replete
Abundance
In
Nightclothes

Jocelyn Brown

Testing....

Jocelyn Brown

RAIN

Rattled
Arms
Invite
Nurturance

Radiant
Ambivalence
Injects
Nostalgia

Refreshing
Air
Invades
Nervousness

Repeal
Animosity
In
Numbness

Roundup
Animals
In
Numbers

Rivulets
Awash
In
Newness

Romp
Around
In
Nature

Replete
Abundance
In
Nightclothes

Jocelyn Brown

test

Wanda Hatton

Rainstorm Through the Eyes of a Five Year Old

Rain comes thundering down around our house after an ominous crack of thunder in the sky; precariously close…I am frightened, hiding in my mother’s apron.

Alert to the voices of my older siblings singing ‘its raining cats and dogs,’ I am fascinated, wondering if the massive buckets of rain on the roof could crack open a hole into our home…would the cats be okay?

Impulsively, I am brave when my siblings call me to run with them to the front of our house where we watch the torrent of water cascading off the eaves in sheets like Niagara Falls…we can set up chairs and invite our friends on Wellington Street to come over to see the show, our very own Falls.

Narrowly missing the overflowing oak rain barrel at the end of the gutter, a penetrating stream of water rushes down to bore a deep, widening hole in the ground…we squeal with delight at the thought of wading in the natural pool when the sun comes out.
Wanda Hatton

Jocelyn Brown

Summer Thunderstorm

Thunder rattles Mammaw and PeePaw's well-appointed walls.
Rain pelts against foggy bedroom windows.
Bitterly battered dogwood blossoms and sycamore leaves spin about in the wind.
Torn petals swirl in silver white whirlpools and rivulets of wariness.
Sheets of water whip relentlessly down grey shingles onto the steep asphalt driveway.
Grasses of August savor and delight in this downpour.
Jackie's grandmother calmly watches over our sleeping eyes.
Cotton blankets and Chintz bedspreads dearly embrace us.
Our snoozing breaths: Rhythmic and certain.
Dreams of breakfast arrive in early slumbering hours. Scratch waffles.
Yes, with maple syrup or maybe Kayro. Whipped cream’s gone.
Kitchen clock's hands make their unending circles and rounds.
Click. Screee. Click. Screee. Click.

Wanda Hatton

Feedback for Laura: I was fascinated with your riveting sailing adventure. I could feel the adrenalin with the pelting rain and wind. Sheer terror. Whew! Happy you made it out of that storm.

Jennifer

The air was usually dry on the prairies. As a kid, going down the slide meant coming down a foot taller (or however long your hair was standing up), hanging balloons up, meant 2 or 3 rubs on your hair and stick it on the wall. So when humidity rolled into town, and the big clouds blotted across the sky, you know the storm was on the way. Shingles danced across the lawn and dust got in your eye. The rain came down like an upside down Jack-in-the-Box leaving little time to get to shelter.

Sometime, it felt like the rain beat the clouds because the sun would still be shining. And when the thunder and lightening cracked and flashed, I stood on the porch and watched. I watched the rain bounce of the ground and fill the gutter, and then turn to white as it turned into hailstones. I ran out to grab them and save them in the freezer for some later surprize summer attack.

As quickly as a thundershower came, it was over and the longest rainbow curtsied across it's stage. The grass shimmered and peaked out from the hail that covered the green. I stood there now soaking wet from all directions and instantly feeling the cold.

The air was fresh and light once more.

Dawn Kotzer

Prompt #6

oops, got Sidetracked.
As I type my flimsy explanation for being late, i realize I have reeled in the perfect title...


SIDETRACKED.
It wasn't a heavy downpour, in fact, you couldn't really call it rain at all...more like an validation of spirit of a day that was going nowhere fast.
'ToDo-todo-todo-todo...is that all there is?' I asked as I glumped around the house and yard.

sigh.
Put your head down, Dawnie...shut up and just get it done.
Fiiiine.

and then it started to drizzle...soft, warm and grey.
perfect accessory for my mood.
I paused...my mood warming a wee bit as a sliver of sun squeezed through the clouds, trying to add a cheery tone to my 'ToDo-elujah' chorus.
I got the message.

I pulled on my favorite rubber boots, threw on a light raincoat and headed outside into the sunshiney drizzle.

Inner and Outer world met...refreshed, reconnected.

The sunlight, cheered on by my renewing spirit, gathered strength as it shone brightly out of the west.
I looked through the smattering of evergreen and birch, towards the lake's edge.
Stepping onto the path, I raised my head to inhale the scent of earth-awakening on the breeze.
I am held in my own footprint as
my eyes received a world transformed.

That smattering of warm earth drizzle had delivered all of this?
How can that be?
It seems impossible that so little effort can create a bridge of such wonder? an access point? a seamless portal to the best of what can be?
How can it be?

{Curious about what I saw? See Prompt #7}

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