Thunder and Rain

The thunder woke me at 5 am.  Loud crashes, bangs, explosions, grumbles and rolling noises of heaven.  I wasn’t surprised Madigan was whimpering. I came off down and let him outside to see that Armageddon hadn’t begun. After I peed and sat with him. He wanted up on the bed to bother Laura. She’d woken too, climbing down to pee, saying hello to Madigan but not helping him up on the bed.  

 I climbed back in bed. The warmth. The coziness. She always smells nice. Flowery perfume.  Tossed blond hair.  What a glorious morning.!

The rain came then, a veritable downpour. Heavy steady drumming on the roof. We had to close the skylight to stop the ricochet getting in.  

Now I’m up. I’ve made us coffee.  I boiled eggs and they’re waiting.  

I’ve glanced at Facebook.  Facebook Friends travelling all over the world.  Everest, Malaysia, Thailand, Mexico, Alaska, Maine.   It’s fun to see others camping in BC like us.  The city folk are enjoying pavement pleasures. I prefer the forest and great escape.  I finally saw a boy up.  All around the other RV’s and Motorhomes are contained. The rain hasn’t let up.

“Doesn’t this remind you of the day we were motorcycling camping on the sunshine coast. We phone dad from the inside of the pup tent where we stayed till the rain let up in the after noon.  “. 

“Yes, it was near Lund.” She answered.

Now there’s a man walking by with two little  dogs . He ‘s quite contorted bending down and scooping up.  Makes me wonder if I look like that

I’m reading the historical fiction, Last Citadel, a novel of the battle of Kursk.  It followed Stalingrad, the battle I’d seen memorized in the Moscow War Museum.  Kursk by contrast was the greatest tank battle, Russian T-34 facing the German Mark IV’s and Tigers.  It’s an amazing story of Germans and Russians. Dimitri is the father, a Cossack from a long line of village elder Cossacks.  He’s the tank driver. His son Vatya is the tank commander and gunner.  Katy’s his daughter is a Night Witch.  “A Cossack family fights together.”  It’s the perspective that’s so interesting, not British, not American and this eastern war where Asian and Europe clash.  I’d just read a history of the Black Sea so was astonished at the steppes and distances.  It reminded me of the long train ride I took overnight from Moscow to St. Petersburg, the endless forest.  The distances.

I’m used to distance in Canada.  I don’t imagine city folk are .  I’m mean calling them the pavement people believing much of our problem with media and politics these days is city folk living in a magical world of water, heat, electricity, sewage disposal can cause them to believe in their own significance.  Being out in the country is humbling. Camping is humbling. Reading history is humbling.  I’m bothered by the egomania of the politicians today and the acceptance of the people of their idiocy and ignorance of science and nature.  

Last nights storm was a reminder of how powerful nature is and how enduring the earth.  

The river is high and raging this morning. I can see and hear it from here.  I’m thankful now for rays of sunlight breaking through the cloud cover.  I imagine I’ll get out on the ATV like I did yesterday. Madigan loved the ride up into the mountains. It was good to shoot the Ruger 30:06, just a couple of shots an inch apart at 50 yards. It’s an amazing rifle , the one I’ve shot most of my big game with, moose, deer, elk, bear, these last 30 years since I bought it, one of the first stainless steel rifles. I was living on the SV Giri at the time so loved a rifle that could handle the ocean environment.  Everything else rusted and till the stainless steel rifles came I was forever oiling the old ones. I have a 223 rifle along and would like to target practice.  I could take some targets along.  Right now though I’m just thinking of reading some more and maybe coffee. 

thank you Jesus.