Yesterday there was a beautiful storm. Instead of the dull and usual Vancouver rain, this storm was a dynamic swirling energy. Unlike a smooth, linear progression it traveled like an intense ballet: with delicate control and gentle movement interspersed with cracking thunder and clouds crashing like waves.
There is something to be said about a storm. A beautiful day of sun can give me the biggest grin but a beautiful storm captures my attention like a tug on a rope, pulling me in to see eye to eye — and then to let me back slowly, inch by inch. I imagine that’s what it’s like to be inside of a hurricane. To experience something much larger than you engulf you yet be in its calm.
It must be called the eye of the storm because once inside it, you see the beauty and glory of the storm.