I love clouds but have so far struggled miserably to paint them. (Judgement). It fascinates me how water can take so many forms and can seem so structural, so solid. I love trying to find time to watch clouds grow. I love the way the light plays off the surfaces. I love watching summer thunderstorms build and spill their contents on the earth beneath them. I love the sound of thunder rumbling (not too loudly) and the sound and smell of a sudden storm.
Thunderstorms remind me of my dad and of sitting out with him out in the backyard in Richardson, Texas when I was a little girl. We’d go out after dinner when it was dark and watch the big thunderstorms, miles and miles away but visible across the flat landscape of North Texas, seeing the lightning dance and play within the clouds. If you were underneath those storms, they weren’t so magical, but from a distance, they were breathtaking.
I grew up in a part of the U.S. where it didn’t rain much in the summer. There wasn’t much at all, save being inside in the air conditioning, to break the searing summertime temps. I never complain about rain or cool weather in the summertime. Yesterday was one of those days when storms popped up here and there and kissed the earth with their contents.
(© Karen Opp. All rights reserved.)