The sound of thunder is something I've missed, oddly enough. This summer's return to Singapore shall certainly find me skulking on the balcony as I await the first thunderstorm after my return. That crackling in the sky as a bolt of sound drops before the imminent pattering of rain. A tropical thunderblast, I'd say, is something I'd give half a chocolate brownie for.
I want to go whitewater rafting this summer. Somewhere - anywhere. Somewhere spectacular would be nice. It wouldn't be much of a change from my present situation - sitting within a confined space, gazing ahead as I manoeuvre my arms in a vain attack on waves crashing over, overwhelming both mind and body in a relentless assault as my heart struggles to keep pace with the glucose rush demanded by the overworked brain. Did I mention trying to avoid drowning?
I've just seen a streak of lightning - that's the downside to the thunderstorm - almost forgot that. Cosy indoors; having a chat with Messrs Rang, Dale, Ritter and Moore.
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2 comments:
you still at it Jason!!!
time spent blogging could be time spent securing that distinction
A dense wall of rock
marks the end of your tunnel.
Push, break through and breathe.
Spring brings life and hope;
creatures emerge from dim holes,
fingernails regrow.
May the best of luck
be granted to you this week,
though quite redundant.
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