A match is lit and ignites a flaming heat within me. I am waking up. A cool grey fog covers my eyes for a moment. My first long breath while conscious clears it. I close my eyes once more to enjoy the luxury of my bed and the warmth it offers. Clouds of grey cotton fill the skies and the forecast predicts a full day of rain. My window overlooks nearly the entire field in front of the house; I see everything. On days like this, I see animals who typically graze the area, hiding in bushes and in the forest off to the east. The prairie dogs scuffle around in a hurried manner doing whatever possible to prepare their fortifications for the near and coming storm. Wind, nature’s ghost, sweeps and encircles the aspen trees and prys at the branches and leaves in several speedy swoops. Then a moment of calm spreads across the earth. The larger animals managed to escape into the forest’s stronghold. The prairie dogs remain in their earthy dens and await the damage to come. Stillness. The wind stopped. The trees droop as the air falls, and with it falls the first drops of rain. Not only do I hear it, but I feel the pitter patter of rain hitting the roof. I stand on my bed in a full tippy-toes-outstretched position and hold my hands up to the ceiling where little thumps are felt from above. It begins to poor, not heavy, but fast. Random and scattered like the sound of crinkling paper. Chills echo down my spine from the sound. Excitement loosens my muscles and propels me out my door and down the stairs to our livingroom. With the first spark of lightning, thunder booms over our house, and with it the power goes out. Not an uncommon event for living out here; we are prepared. Candles will soon appear at every corner and in every room.

Another flash, and a rumble shakes the roof of the house. I run for the closet only to find it already opened. He got there first. Next to it, the door to the garage remains slightly opened. Enough to note that someone made the effort to close the door gently enough for it to stay that way. It’s an invitation. Feeling the breeze from outside, I grab a coat and head into the garage. He, of course, sits with an empty chair next to him waiting for me. Except for maybe the first thunderstorm I experienced, I watched them and listened to them as more of an appreciative audience member rather than a cowardly victim. My dad and I created a tradition of opening the garage car door and setting places to watch the spectacle of light and to listen to the sky’s percussionists savagely pound away at their drums. Drawn to the performance, I always believed that dancing in the rain was appropriate. But more often than not, I just sat in awe at the scene before me. Everything from the worms slowly making their way to enjoy the moisture of the surface, to the rivers roaring with new vigor, I feel connected to. I know my bones, my skin, my hair, my heart, my head, my soul, all come from the same place as the grass, the trees, the dirt, the water, and every other thing on this earth. I know everything that makes me finds a home in all things. Bound to each other, we survive.

We sit in the garage for more than an hour. Silence lasts between us, but loud bursts of seemingly aggravated communication comes from the sky. We listen intently and stay completely consumed by the environment’s announcement to the rest of the world.

After the storm, I scramble outside to the awakened realm surrounding me. Here I am able to live. Our horses make their way out of the barn and they begin feeding. Hummingbirds hurtle around and through the rose bushes, more coordinated and agile than the finest show plane pilot. The wind is back but it only gently creeps over the earth to blend all the different scents. I take them in. They mix and dwell within me fueling my flame with a roar of pure unlimited energy. Like the storm, it swells and bursts and rages and screams inside. Running down the driveway, feet kick up rocks and mud behind me. I pound each foot into the ground propelling me further and launching me faster down the road. Mist rises over the field as the Sun’s heat eases out of the clouds. Down the road I pass prairie dogs, deer, birds, and butterflies. I not only see nature but I am part of it. I exist as a piece of a puzzle that unites with all the rest to construct a vision of nature.  I close my eyes while still running and turn right. Outstretched to my sides, my arms slowly lift and fall. My eyelids retreat and expose the world to my sight. The illustration before me looks as though an artist wiped their canvas with flashes of white paint. My eyes adjust enough to let me see the collage of greens and browns colliding at the sides of my vision. I calm and slow to a walk. One more right and straight into the mix of foliage dragging and clingy at my legs and arms. I come to the far edge of the pond. Ducks lift off into the air as they see a predator approach. Turtles sit on a branch that fell nearly six months earlier, and I lay down onto the thick grass to catch my breath. I experience an odd feeling of words and thoughts leaving my mind. My body is fully clothed, yet I lay completely exposed and vulnerable to the threat of wilderness. And do you know what happened? Nothing. I remain free and unscathed.