a tempestuous noise of thunder and lightning

At about a quarter to five this morning, Sal and I were woken from a dead sleep by the sound of something crashing on top of the house. Nothing actually did crash on top of the house, but instead an extremely close and especially loud thunderclap, but it certainly sounded like it. In fact, it set off all the car alarms on the street.

Admittedly, thunder and lightning are a rare occurrence here. Once a summer, maybe. But it's not as if I've been away from Wyoming so long that I've forgotten how loud thunder is. This was one of those rare types of thunder that just kind of sneaks up on you, the meteorological equivalent of someone jumping out at you from a doorway and shouting "Boo!"

After we recovered from the heart attack, I finally laid down again and closed my eyes. A minute or so later, a brilliant flash of white blue behind my eyelids and then another booming crash immediately following. Let me repeat that: I saw the lightning flash with my eyes closed, in a room where there's no direct line of sight to a window. That is some primeval shit right there.

lunch, black strawberry:

• pad Thai with chicken
• peas
• carrot sticks
• fresh raspberries from our garden

title taken from The Tempest, obviously