There was a long and enormous thunderstorm last night here in Nicaragua. Thunderstorms are part of the rainy season, but this one was intense. It jolted me out of my sleep, led me to seeking towels and trashcans for roof leaks, and then I paused…
I watched out the window as, at midnight, the sky was a light grey from lightning sparking continuously through the cloud cover, and listened as the thunder rolls overwhelmed the sound of rain on our metal roof. The huge strikes of lightning and blasts of thunder jolted the scene. And our enormous rubber tree just stood there.
In the ongoing storm with the cloud cover backdrop, the rubber tree was a clear black silhouette at midnight. There was no wind. Not a branch moved. It just stood there strong against the sky, with an occasional twitch of the topmost leaves. And when lightning bolts ignited the sky, each still leaf stood out in definition.
I watched, listening to the storm and the rain, for a long time, until the roar of the thunder diminished, until it sounded like separate incoming planes instead of a continuous drum roll, until the frogs began croaking loud enough to be heard over the lessening rain. And I thought once again, “I am not in control.”
Yes, we people are NOT in control. The earth and the universe are, and when we fail to pay attention or treat our world with respect as caretakers, all of us creatures, ALL of us, suffer. Unfortunately, the poor everywhere suffer the most.
Today is 9/11. I awoke with a heavy heart, because I fear that some of us tiny humans will do something stupid today, stressed out by coronavirus, fires, windshears, hurricanes, unemployment, threats of war, discoveries of lies and deceit, etc. etc… and the remembrance of the pain and anger of 9/11 will burst through. I pray not. We, as the United States, jumped to blame and wreaked havoc then, for which we and the world are still paying.
And I remember those 9/11 first responders. And watch the first responders now. And watch the mail carriers and the sanitation workers and the bus drivers and the teachers, and so many others, in addition to all the medical folk, being first responders and essential workers now. And I listen to their pleas for support.
And so I’m trying to remember the thunderstorm. The beautiful gift of nature equalizing positive and negative forces in the atmosphere, the rain, the frogs, and the rubber tree standing against the night. I am not in charge. I will do my best to preserve and protect the earth and ALL of us tiny humans. I can participate in life. I can use my voice, my actions, my vote to answer the pleas now. I will wear my mask and socially distance. And I will remember the thunderstorm.
- Sarah
