It struck me—every Day—
The Lightning was as new
As if the Cloud that instant slit
And let the Fire through—
It burned Me—in the Night—
It Blistered to My Dream—
It sickened fresh upon my sight—
With every Morn that came—
I though that Storm—was brief—
The Maddest—quickest by—
But Nature lost the Date of This—
And left it in the Sky—
*from Emily Dickinson; it is lightening season here in the Catskills, and I am down for it, always. Boiling, broiling skies – the only drawback being if I am about to swim laps, which are then delayed by a half-hour from last boom/flash by order of NYS Board of Health. My darling Diego is not, seemingly, troubled by the lightening, which is a new thing for me with a dog – but then, he is imperturbable in so many ways. Robins on the lawn? Unacceptable!! Traffic on our road? Terrible! Awful! Monstrous! Visitors? Yay!!! Lightening? Meh. Perhaps because his head is so cavernous? Perhaps because his Pyrenees forbears were bred to stay out on the mountains with their precious flock no matter what, including stormy weather. What a good, silly dog.